The Game of Life
by Belial666
Summary: A thoughtless comment during the final battle, and Voldemort realizes the danger he's in and how to avoid it. Harry appears in Limbo alone with his regrets, until he finds a strange game... about himself. What happens when Harry decides to play, changing things in the process? Second chance, gamer!Harry, girl!harry(?), fanfic cliches used and/or twisted.
1. Character Creation

**OK this is an idea I've had for some time now, the life of our favourite hero as a game. The story will have a complex plot beyond being a gamer fic, and canon events will be greatly changed by the changes Harry makes in character creation. As the story will also try for in-game consistency i.e. the world still making sense, Harry is going to find what impact the ability to make choices about himself before being (re)born - and how. Regarding the update speed, it will depend on how well I can integrate plot and mechanics. It probably will be around once a week or so after the first few chapters are posted. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Did Harry pretty much announce his plan for defeating Riddle in Riddle's own face in canon? If yes, I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling and this story is entirely non-profit.**

 **xxxx**

He opened his eyes to white marble floor, white pillars, a vastly distant ceiling lost in the brightness overhead. For a split second he thought of the Hogwarts infirmary... then his memories caught up with his thoughts. Not the infirmary, no; like much of the rest of the castle it had been heavily damaged during the battle... and had not been nearly as grand and blindingly bright as this place. He was somewhere else, if this could be called a place to begin with. It looked like King's Cross, the superficial similarities reminding him of the gateway to the magical world he'd used these past seven years and then it struck him... It was a gateway too, was it not? And into a world far more distant and strange than the magical world had been. Unlike before, the pure white, endlessly extending facsimile of a train station was empty except for himself. He was alone here, as he had half-expected. He had already gotten a welcoming speech the last time after all.

Harry Potter came to his feet unsteadily, staring at the pristine clothes he now wore, clothes that had been dirty and torn and covered in blood not very long ago. His shoes that had been nearly fallen apart after a year of hunting Horcruxes and dodging Snatchers all over Britain, his glasses that had cracked for the last time right before he'd woken up in Limbo again, now whole once more but without Hermione with her friendly smile and skill in Charms that had fixed them for him too many times to remember. His memories were faded like an old photograph left too long under the sun, his thoughts sluggish and lost like a traveller wandering aimlessly through thick mist. All of them but those he had at the end.

Why had he spoken out? Why had he opened his mouth and uttered what even a dunderhead like himself should have known not to? _Your magic is no longer binding, Tom!_ he had taunted. _You were never the master of the Elder Wand!_ he'd said. Snape had been right all along; Harry did have a total inability to control his feelings. He did wear his heart where all could see, and had not resisted doing the one thing he should never have done; gloat. Dumbledore had warned him; however mutilated Tom Riddle's soul may be, his prodigious intellect and magical ability were more than enough to make him dangerous. And when Harry himself had so readily handed his worst enemy the greatest weapon of all - information - Riddle's response had been as simple as it had been brutal. Instead of casting the Killing Curse at Harry, he'd banished a five-foot piece of broken masonry at him at a speed far greater than any Bludger's. It must have weighed several tons - Harry didn't really know. He'd died too quickly to feel much of anything.

In one single moment of hubris to match any of Riddle's or Dumbledore's greatest failures, Harry had died at the hand of his enemy. The Elder Wand's allegiance would pass to Riddle now... but far worse than that, Harry had been the last of the Potters. With no-one that shared his blood still alive, his willing sacrifice back in the Forbidden Forest would no longer protect anyone from Riddle's magic and with it enhanced by the Deathstick, none would be able to stand against Voldemort. Harry's impulsiveness and raw stupidity had lost the war...

 **xxxx**

He had been wandering around the empty station for some time now. Hours? Days? Months? He had no idea. Did time even have meaning in a place such as this? He doubted it. With the station being empty of all but himself, and deadlines of any form having been ended by his death, he found himself with nothing to do.

He'd entered the trains one by one, perhaps waiting to take them somewhere else, perhaps because nothing mattered any more. Only, they had no drivers. He'd walked around the empty reflection of King's Cross, searching for anyone that would visit like Dumbledore had done before, marking the passage of time by counting his own steps. In the end he had stopped and sat upon an empty bench to rest. Not that he needed it. The count of steps had just gone so high that continuing had been tedious; it happened when you reached nine digits. He did not get tired, he did not sleep, he did not get thirsty or hungry, hot or cold. He wasn't sure he even breathed. And he couldn't affect his surroundings. He knew; he'd tried. Even getting angry and trying to vandalize one of the countless benches had amounted to nothing. His wand had not come with him, either the broken Holly and Phoenix Feather that had been his first, or Malfoy's that he'd been using since escaping Malfoy Manor. The Elder Wand had obviously remained with Voldemort. Thus, no magic either. He wasn't sure he could do magic at all in Limbo anyway; his attempts to Apparate had worked, in a way; he'd appeared from one place to another... but with neither sound nor any other sensation at all.

With nothing to do and all the time in the world (and possibly beyond), his thoughts gravitated to regrets, past mistakes, and what-ifs, as they usually did. His grievous error of mouthing off to Tom had been far from his only one. The Malfoy manor, triggering the Taboo, forgetting to cast bubblehead and warming charms before diving for the Sword of Gryffindor, trying to find Bathilda Bagshot, not realising Ron was being so heavily affected by the Horcrux necklace, actually carrying said necklace with them instead of burying it in a remote place or leaving it in Grimmauld Place... so many mistakes in the last year alone. Some hero he'd turned out to be. So many things he'd change if he could... was this his punishment for failure?

He didn't know, and wasn't sure he cared.

 **xxxx**

An indeterminate amount of time later, Harry stumbled upon the first interesting thing he'd found in Limbo in all his long second visit. Set upon a bench was a large, roughly square piece of cardboard, brown and worn with age. Upon it were the rows and columns of an improvised chessboard, written in ink faded with the passage of years to be all but invisible. Black and white pieces lay broken, strewn haphazardly around them as if the last players to make use of them had not a care in the world about their ultimate fate. The only piece still mostly whole was the Black King, standing proud and alone in the middle of the faded board, but far from intact. In fact, the onyx figurine was cracked and chipped in many places, entire pieces of it missing that could not have been the result of simple wear and tear. Still, it held the board and the prize, for elaborate letters carved into the cardboard far more artfully than the improvised chessboard had been proclaimed it 'The Game Of Life'.

His discovery's meaning was not lost on Harry, who snorted in exasperation. No wonder he'd made so many blunders over the years; he really sucked at Chess. Suddenly wishing that the pieces were whole, that he could play the game again, he sighed and sat heavily on one end of the bench. They weren't whole, and would never be again. His mood dismal, he started toying with the board and the broken pieces anyway. His mood was dismal all the time now, after all, and was no excuse for not enjoying his discovery. Which is how he came to his second discovery of the day... not that Limbo had days.

The board was not just an old piece of cardboard; it was a folder. And inside it there were pieces of parchment far too numerous to count. Many were rotten, blackened, or too torn to read. Others were entirely blank. A small but not insignificant amount were well-preserved and legible, but for some strange reason Harry's eyes slid over and around the words, refusing to focus on what the parchments contained. But one piece of parchment was both well-preserved and clear to Harry's eyes. It was also titled simply 'POTTER' in large, blocky, crimson letters that looked suspiciously like they were written in blood; Harry had seen and used a Blood Quill long enough to be able to tell.

The rest of the parchment was written in similar red-brown script and at first glance it looked like a short bio... but wasn't. Dim memories of his distant past surfaced the more he looked at it... something that had gotten him punished severely by aunt Petunia. He remembered something about a religious discussion, something that had happened in school... ah! Now he remembered; it had been the year before he'd gone to Hogwarts. Some kids had brought a strange new game to school, and had been caught by the teachers. Accusations of devil-worship had followed and the kids had never returned. He remembered it clearly because the memory was rather unusual and his punishment for his involvement totally unfair, and this sheet that described him after a fashion had reminded him of that strange game.

 _ **POTTER**_

 _ **Age:**_ _18_ _ **Gender:**_ _Male_ _ **Hair:**_ _Black_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Dark Green_

 _ **Concept:**_ __ _Half-Blood Wizard_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Chosen One, Accidental Magic, Mother's Sacrifice, Great Fame, Inheritance, Dumbledore's Protection, Quick Recovery_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Abusive Relatives, Public Scrutiny, Sins of the Father, Plots within Plots, Doing the Right Thing_

 _ **Strength:**_ _12_ _ **Agility:**_ _200_ _ **Endurance:**_ _35_ _ **Intellect:**_ _60_ _ **Conviction:**_ _500_ _ **Presence:**_ _20_ _ **Destiny:**_ _500_

There was more to the sheet than that, much more, but he didn't care. He was actually furious. Was this some sort of cosmic joke?! In this so-called "Game of Life", being the 'Chosen One' and having 'Great Fame' was a benefit? Since when? As for his mother's sacrifice and the protection Dumbledore had given him... did the universe have some sort of sick sense of humour? The first thing of interest he found in this empty, impersonal, eternally bright Hell was a piece of parchment mocking him with his mother's own death being called a "Benefit" and fighting against the dark or doing the right thing a disadvantage?

What. The. Hell?

Furious at the mockery, angry with himself, and with the deaths of so many people haunting his thoughts he kicked the folder off the bench, spreading the countless sheets all over the place and sending the black king flying. Then he turned his back to it and marched off...

 **xxxx**

It had been some time since Harry Potter started haunting Limbo, perhaps only months, perhaps too long to count. He always wandered, alone with his thoughts and regrets, unable to find peace. At times he thought he must be going insane, trying to talk to people that weren't there, or even himself. At others, he knew exactly who and where he was and why he deserved to be there. And there were moments he was angry at the unfairness of it all, that his entire life he had been Fate's little plaything. In the end, he found himself sitting in that one bench, the sheet of parchment mocking his life in hand. Playing a game did not seem so terrible at the moment, even one such as this. He had nothing else to do here anyway.

The problem with that was that he couldn't find any rules. There were just sheets of parchment ruined beyond recognition, those still intact but illegible to him, those empty of information, and his own. How did one play this game? What did the numbers even mean? The drawbacks and benefits he could guess at somewhat, but even there he couldn't tell how you'd use them in a game of any sort. Scowling, he glared at the word 'Strength' and the number beside it. He really needed to learn their meaning if he was to play this game, escape the intolerable, endless nothing. As he thought that though, the red-brown word and number written in blood gleamed as if freshly set upon the parchment, information pouring directly into his brain.

 _ **Strength:**_ _Numerical representation of the ability to apply physical force. Its rank is set as square root of maximum lift in pounds. I.e. strength 5 is about the strength of a 7-year-old malnourished Harry, strength 30 is about the maximum for muggles, strength 70 is at Hagrid's or a Mountain Troll's level, strength 240 would be a strong giant or a main battle tank. Muggles tend to have higher strength on average than wizards due to their reliance on physical labour, though this is slowly changing as muggle society is becoming more 'advanced'._

Of course, blood magic! That must be how the game worked, though how and why blood even existed in Limbo he had no idea. Best not to question it; he didn't want it to go away. He quickly 'read' about the other numerical attributes on his sheet.

 _ **Agility:**_ _Numerical representation of physical and mental quickness and coordination, reflexes, and perception. Its rank is set as number of intentional large-scale actions per minute, or half the number of intentional small-scale actions per minute. A troll would rave a rank of 5 to 10, a typical human would have a rank of 60, the guy who holds the world record for full-contact punches per minute would have a rank of 805, were the record due to Agility alone._

 _ **Endurance:**_ _Numerical representation of toughness. Arbitrarily set as equivalent of strength; a target with endurance equal to the attacker has 50% chance to be hurt by a hit, and can take 5 hits before being knocked out, 10 before dying. Human maximum probably caps higher than strength, as some people have survived exposure to 40+ gs, falling from 20.000 feet without parachutes, or being shot 50 times. Wizards tend to have higher on average endurance than muggles._

 _ **Intellect:**_ _Numerical representation of learning speed, memorization, information analysis and synthesis. Arbitrarily set as 100 being the intellect of a typical educated college student, with learning speed and analysis/synthesis varying linearly either way, while memorization/total information is also affected by how long you've been learning. Wizardkind has little use for Intellect (or so they believe), and most magical and nonmagical creatures are less intelligent than them thus Intellect is the primary attribute of muggles._

 _ **Conviction:**_ _Numerical representation of willpower, strength of belief, bearing, stubbornness and, if magical, the strength of your magic. Arbitrarily set to equal Strength when applied to spells that produce physical force; a first-year student levitating a 200-pound Troll's club in a second would need Conviction 14 if they knew the Levitation Spell well enough for maximum efficiency, or Conviction 63 if they successfully cast the spell for the first time (and thus had efficiency of ~5%). Other types of magic are affected in a similar manner. Muggles have little use for Conviction in modern society, preferring to rely on Intellect. It is the primary attribute of wizards._

 _ **Presence:**_ _Numerical representation of empathy, social aptitude, persuasion, and influence. The rank of an average social adult is arbitrarily set at 100. Total effect diminishes at square of rank under 100, and increases at cube of rank over 100 for the extent of the influence, but is linear for the strength of the influence when two people attempt social interaction in opposition. Harry Potter, with only 2 people close to him and less than a dozen people he frequently interacts with has Presence 20. A dictator or religious leader who personally manages to proselytize half a million followers through his speeches, acting skill, and guiding the masses despite his ideas being against social practices or even common sense would have Presence 1000. This is the primary attribute of dangerous beings such as Veela, Vampires, Politicians, and Lawyers._

 _ **Destiny:**_ _Numerical representation of your importance in the world due to circumstances beyond your control, such as your birth, inheritance, and the influence of magic - and the continued reinforcement of said importance due to fame, the machinations of others, or the influence of magic. Destiny progresses numerically similar to Presence. A person being born into middle class and wealth and inheriting the family name, contacts, and legacy would have Destiny 100. Someone who affects an entire community due to an active and revealed Prophesy would have Destiny of 500 or more._

 **xxxx**

Well, Harry thought, the numbers made a lot more sense now. They even fit a few things about his life that had never made sense to him before, like how he could be perceptive enough to be a great Seeker while needing glasses, or why wizarding Britain was so quick to believe anything but the truth, or how he could cast Defence spells more powerful than Hermione's while still having trouble studying for any length of time. They also reminded him of all the differences between the muggle and wizarding worlds... who had written that commentary anyway? No, that wasn't important. Not with what Harry was about to do.

There! That was where the Black King had fallen. Picking up the last mostly-intact chess piece, Harry smiled like a maniac and run back to the stone bench with all the pieces parchment over and around it. If the chess piece represented Voldemort and the outcome of the life he'd just lived, and Harry was all but certain it did, then Harry's next action would constitute both poetic irony and a long-awaited turnabout; gritting his teeth, he pressed one of the piece's sharper edges to the underside of his index finger... then tugged it sharply. A brief stab of a sensation he'd not felt for so long it seemed like an old friend and success followed. Yes! He might not be capable of doing anything interesting at all here in Limbo but, as he'd hoped, the Black King could hurt him here as he had in life if Harry really tried.

Too eager for results to wait any longer, Harry picked up one of the empty pieces of parchment, pressed his bloody finger to it, and wrote 'POTTER'. The letters took. After a moment, they twisted and shifted upon the sheet until they were no longer a barely-legible scrawl but an elegant script identical to the one on his old sheet. What was more, his name disappeared from his old sheet as it appeared on this one. Harry Potter laughed then, even made an impromptu dance around the stone bench. It was a good thing nobody was around to see him; they'd have thought him insane.

If the only thing left to do in this place other than thinking about his failures was play this 'Game of Life', Harry would do so. But he wouldn't use his old sheet; it reminded him too much of past mistakes. Besides, all of this happened in his head, didn't it? Dumbledore had said so. His head, his life; he was no longer willing to be Fate's punching bag. His finger hovered next to the "age" bracket. What should he write here? Was it possible to change it, as he intended to change other things? And... would that start the game before his death, if he did? He shrugged. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and he was a Gryffindor; he wrote down a big, lopsided '7'. The number twisted and turned as soon as he wrote it down, as if it was resisting the change... but in the end settled down into that neat script, his real age vanishing from his old sheet. He didn't know if he succeeded because seven was the most magical number or because he'd simply decided to change it, but it had worked. Unfortunately, it was not the only thing that had changed. Twisting and turning before settling down, more numbers appeared below.

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _7_ _ **Endurance:**_ _7_ _ **Intellect:**_ _7_ _ **Conviction:**_ _7_ _ **Presence:**_ _7_ _ **Destiny:**_ _200_

Oh, no. Not just no but Hell no! He was not going to be Fate's pawn! Determinedly, he wrote a big fat '0' over the number 200. In a way that reminded him of Riddle's Diary, the bloody numeral was absorbed by the sheet, leaving the original number unchanged. He tried again and again, to the same result. Frustrated, he tried to tear the sheet apart but it proved just as invulnerable as Tom's first Horcrux. Then the word 'Destiny' gleamed as if freshly-written, and information poured into his mind.

 _Your Destiny score cannot be changed at this time due to your Benefits and Drawbacks being what they are._

He stared at the piece of parchment he was holding, looking at the empty brackets for 'Benefits' and 'Drawbacks'. What the... he glanced back at his old sheet, the offending words still there. Of course! The information on the old sheet must still count as his as long as he didn't change it. And the list of benefits and drawbacks had offended him even more than his so-called 'Destiny'. Determinedly, he wrote down "Accidental Magic" and "Quick Recovery" in Benefits, and "Enemy of the Dark" and "Doing the Right Thing" in Drawbacks, ignoring everything else on the previous list.

 _Seven drawbacks are required, and benefits may not exceed drawbacks._

He scowled as more information poured into his head. He didn't really care about the game's requirements. He wasn't about to copy those from his old sheet, and it wasn't as if a list of Benefits and Drawbacks was available to choose from... or was it? He concentrated on the two categories on his new parchment until the words gleamed new and - WHOA! Suddenly, hundreds upon hundreds of short phrases appeared in his mind, too many to count. The first was a list of Benefits probably, while the second was obviously one of Drawbacks; phrases like Terminally Lazy, Self-Righteous And Liking It, Pride Goes Before Everything, and many similar ones were kind of a giveaway. There were also some more unusual ones that Harry did not understand at first glance. Curious, he focused upon one of them and a description expanded in his mind.

 _Magical Core: Your magic is a separate, quantifiable metaphysical entity you're born with rather than an ability to overwrite reality via sheer will. You have a reserve of energy separate from your stamina and equal to Destiny x Conviction. Any magic you use comes out of it, the used energy replenishing slowly over time. You can boost this reserve with various means, but you're also susceptible to spells, rituals and events that can limit, bind, steal, or outright remove your magic._

Harry shuddered in silent horror. Nope. That was one drawback he was not touching with a twenty-foot pole and a full dragonhide suit. He immediately chose 'I Need to Know' and added it to his list; he'd decided he was not going to be left in the dark as he had about far too many things in his life. After a bit of internal debate he added 'Unsubtle and Quick to Anger' once more. He already was angry at lots of people and wasn't planning on changing that any time soon. Another interesting Drawback came up and focused on it to see the description;

Trouble Magnet: You get into trouble by accident or design as if you had a high Destiny score. Unlike actually having such a score, there are no other effects than the aforementioned trouble. You're either a prankster or a wild card, messing up the status quo without being part of it.

Why not? Trouble had always found him in the past and given the terminal boredom of Limbo, he could hardly see it as a drawback at all. Even if this was a simple game (however it was played), it should make things interesting. 'Loyal Friend' and 'Cautious' rounded up his list, though why this game counted them as Disadvantages he had no idea. Whoever wrote this thing must either have had a weird sense of humour... or been utterly insane. Not that those were mutually exclusive.

In his advantages he immediately added 'Happy Family'. Then, realizing forewarned was forearmed, he focused on Accidental Magic and Quick Recovery; their descriptions flowed in his awareness almost immediately;

 _Accidental Magic: You have performed accidental wandless magic at least once and have access to the relevant skill. You're definitely a witch or wizard, and your family knows it if they know about magic at all. If they don't know it, they might be surprised or worried by the unusual events that sometimes happen around you._

 _Quick Recovery: You bounce back from harm pretty fast, both physically and mentally... possibly aided by magic. Unless exposed to extreme trauma or dark magic, you'll eventually recover completely. Danger has less impact on your personality, both for good and bad; you are unlikely to become jaded or resentful, but far more likely to be reckless or naive._

Right, both of those were keepers which left him with four more. Looking through the Benefits list he'd found some interesting things, which he wanted to try. Three especially had drawn his attention from the start;

 _Uncanny Awareness: You know things you shouldn't. It might be Seer blood, another unusual magical ability passed down from your family, exposure to some deeper mystery, or even that silly Muggle belief about remembering past lives. Whatever it is, you know more than you have been told or could possibly find out, though such esoteric knowledge is not always reliable._

 _Harmless and Cute: An image is a thousand words, and looking both good and innocent is often better than proof. People that see the pretty face will often tend to underestimate you, unless you put effort in correcting their misconceptions._

 _A Thousand Faces: Your hair tends to shift shape and length or sometimes colour, especially if you're stressed... unless it is your eyes instead. Good news; you're probably a Metamorph by birth. You still need to develop the talent through practice and given its rarity, you're unlikely to find a teacher. Also, negative emotions can suppress this talent, especially over extended periods._

If whoever had put him here with this game liked jokes, Harry saw no problem joking back. All this was a big cosmic joke after all. So much for Dumbledore's belief in the next great adventure. Picking 'Lucky Escape' as his last benefit - surviving a deadly situation once a year was too good to pass on - he finally changed his Destiny score to zero with satisfaction.

The message he got when he did was... interesting.

 **xxxx**

 _You have 200 points left. Would you like to modify your starting attributes?_

Harry considered the message carefully. So... eliminating his Destiny score had freed up points for other attributes? Made sense; a game would have to be balanced in some way, fair. That thought made him pause for a few moments... then burst out laughing. Another joke. In his experience, life was anything but fair. Oh well... if whoever had put him here wanted to play 'fair', why not?

The attributes in his old sheet were much higher than the new one, quite accurate for his adult self if he understood the mechanics. What would a seven-year-old him have? Or a seven-year-old anyone? Well, Hermione would have probably been smarter at that age than he was now... Tom had definitely been scarier... and Hagrid had been as tall as his dad. Ah, forget it. He'd just put points where he wanted to. It was only a game, no reason to think things through too much and forget to have fun. And since playing an antisocial loner or blind fool would hardly be nice after having lived as one, making a decision was easy.

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _50_ _ **Endurance:**_ _12_ _ **Intellect:**_ _50_ _ **Conviction:**_ _73_ _ **Presence:**_ _50_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _60/60_ _ **Energy:**_ _876/876_

Physical abilities wouldn't help much in playing a wizard, however this game was going to be played. On the other hand, he found the idea of a Harry Potter that couldn't play Quidditch rather jarring, and quick reflexes had saved him a lot in his past life. And hey, if playing a smart, socially adept Harry Potter wasn't prohibited, he'd do it. Maybe whoever had set this game up would die of irony. But what were these two values that had just appeared below his attributes? A bit more focus - he really was getting the hang of this - brought up a description.

 _Health: Abstract representation of physical condition. How much punishment one can take before collapsing at health zero, and before dying at health minus maximum. Meter is equal to Endurance times five. Specific penalties for this meter being less than full depend on the type of attack that reduced the meter, and how big each individual reduction is compared to the meter; they are called wounds. The meter regenerates at 1 point per 10 Endurance per day for muggles, 1 point per 10 Endurance per 8 hours for wizards, and 1 point per 10 Endurance per hour for those with Quick Recovery. Certain penalties and effects may prevent regeneration or even apply degeneration, most notably poisons. Certain bonuses and effects may speed recovery, most notably medical care._

 _Energy: Abstract representation of physical and mental reserves. Meter is equal to Endurance times Conviction, ranging from maximum to zero. 1 second of intense activity, 10 seconds of moderate activity, or 1 minute of light activity cost a point of Energy. 1 minute of rest restores 3 points of energy. Having less energy than the maximum imposes progressively higher penalty on all actions called 'fatigue'. Certain penalties and effects may prevent regeneration or even apply degeneration, most notably disease. Certain bonuses and effects may speed recovery, most notably food._

Oh. Was it too late to increase his Endurance more? Less than 20 minutes of intense activity was not nearly enough for one of his typical outings. Then again, he doubted seven-year-olds did anything like that... he hoped. And yep, here came the Potter luck; he couldn't change his attributes once he was done distributing points. Whatever, he was done messing around with this piece of parchment. How was this game played anyway? Where was his opponent, if any? How...

Suddenly, Harry felt as if a massive invisible hook was dragging him from behind his navel, the parchments around him, the bench he was sitting on, the entire representation of King's Cross whirling madly as the monstrous hybrid of a Portkey and a Pensieve was activated. He fell down, down, down a tunnel of countless images, his past life playing in reverse.

He'd just found how the Game of Life was to be played, and fervently hoped he'd not messed up horribly with what he'd just done.

 **xxxx**

In the now empty station of King's Cross, one piece of parchment yellowed, faded, and was covered with mould... but was still legible. They all were, and had always been. A strong wind blew, picking up the countless sheets of parchment and depositing them in the ancient folder in the exact proper order; an event not impossible, and a lot less improbable than the initial appearance of life.

The wind strengthened, carrying away the broken chess pieces and the worn Black King, grinding them to dust. The faded black-brown ink on the folder, who'd never been ink to begin with, was washed away, the improvised chessboard gone. Spots and mould was cleaned away, worn to nothing, all less durable than the folder itself. Even the patch of mould that had grown in the exact shape of letters, another event not impossible, however improbable it might be. The folder was left behind yellowed but spotless, and titled 'The Book of Life'.

The sudden hurricane became a great tornado, sucking in and grinding the black and white dust of the former chess pieces even further. When it was over, the result landed on the folder heavily. It was a dice with seven sides, all of which were identical heptagons, all displaying the number seven. Someone was about to play dice with the universe; of course they'd need something impossible to help them along.


	2. Guy In Real Life?

**The second chapter asnwers a few reader questions as Harry wakes up in the Game of Life and faces his choices. Character sheet at chapter's end.**

 **Disclaimer: Was Dudley shown as a dumb kid rather than just lazy when he could manipulate his parents and his teachers from an early age and had better grasp of leadership and tactics than Harry? If yes, I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling and this story is entirely free and for fun.**

 **xxxx**

Jazzy wanted mommy, not not-mommy. Not-mommy not like hugs. Not-mommy ignore Jazzy. Not-mommy mean. Jazzy wanted daddy, not not-daddy. Not-daddy not funny. Not-daddy not like playing with Jazzy. Not-daddy not make jokes. Not-daddy not give toy broom. Not-daddy mean. Jazzy wanted Paddy, not Diddy. Diddy cry too much. Diddy eat, burp too much. Diddy not like Jazzy. Diddy loud, messy, mean.

 _She was Jasmine Dursley. She was two years old. She was a perfectly normal girl._

Jasmine liked the second bedroom. It had all of Diddykins toys Diddykins was too stupid or too fat to use. It had lots of picture books. Jasmine liked both, but liked the books more. Diddykins didn't like playing with her much. She didn't like playing on her own. Mommy and Daddy were happy though. Jasmine ate all her food, was always proper, washed the dishes, dressed and undressed herself, made her bed like a good girl. And Mommy and Daddy now took Jasmine to baby ballet lessons! Jasmine was no baby but she was excited!

 _She was Jasmine Dursley. She was three years old. She was a perfectly normal girl._

Jasmine had a new passion; music. She'd convinced Mommy to buy her a couple toy instruments and played with them as much as she could; she liked the piano best. Dudley also had a new passion; sports. Every time Mommy took them to a party with other children, Jasmine got all the other mums to smile and clap at her performance while Dudley and Polkiss beat the other kids at sports. The other kids cried. Dudley called them losers. Jasmine didn't want to cry so she didn't tell Mommy. Mommy loved them too much and could not believe Dudley would be so good at sports. Or was it bad? Jasmine wasn't sure.

 _She was Jasmine Dursley. She was four years old. She was a perfectly normal girl._

Jasmine had just finished a year in school! She loved school! It was easy, she learned all sorts of things, and had friends! The other girls wanted to be Jasmine's friends because she was cuter, bolder, smarter. Dudley also liked school. The other boys wanted to be Dudley's friend because he was bigger, stronger, and uglier. He was just as bold and smart as Jasmine though; he knew what kid to target, used good tactics to "divide and conquer" as the History teacher taught them, which kids had parents with big names that might cause trouble, and which teachers wouldn't tolerate "sports" and should be avoided. Jasmine's friends wanted to be cool with the other girls like Dudley's friends were with the boys, but Jasmine had told them that would make them big and ugly like Dudley. They'd all shuddered at that and decided to be good girls, and do all their homework, play friendly games instead of evil sports, and learn music and dancing. They knew that no fat, ugly boy would ever be caught dancing.

 _She was Jasmine Dursley. She was five years old. She was a perfectly normal girl._

Aunt Marge had visited many times this year, with her favorite bulldog Ripper. Ripper was uglier than Dudley, nastier than Dudley, and probably dumber than Dudley. With no other dogs to bite, he'd tried to hunt down Jasmine. Fortunately, Jasmine was younger than Ripper and didn't spend all her days in Aunt Marge's fat embrace. In school she was the Skipping Rope champion by a large margin, and she was the best dancer in the lessons Mommy sent her. After a rather vigorous and fun chase every time Ripper bothered to get off its fat backside, the dog either lost interest or couldn't keep up... mostly because Jasmine wasn't stupid enough to race him in the open, and was smart enough to lead him into traps.

School was also going very well. Jasmine didn't get the best grades in class; spending all her time studying was boring. She was still fourth or fifth though. She and her friends were the best in Hide-and-Seek, Tag, Skipping Rope and other such games, and best in their year in music or dancing. They kept away from Dudley's gang, mostly because Dudley had somehow convinced most of the teachers that he was a good kid. Mom and Dad must be helping him somehow, thought Jasmine couldn't see it. It was a bit unfair... to Dudley. If Mom and Dad did everything for him, he'd never do anything for himself except for what he wanted at the moment... which was probably how he'd gotten even fatter. Jasmine didn't complain; Dudley's size was to her advantage if his gang and her friends ever clashed. Her brother couldn't hit what he was too slow to catch, and he'd probably fall head-first into the first trap she drew him into.

 _She was Jasmine Dursley. She was six years old. She was a perfectly normal girl._

 **xxxx**

It was very late. Night had fallen over Little Whinging hours ago, the star-strewn sky glittering overhead. All windows were dark in Privet Drive and everyone was sleeping. Or were they? One girl, lying on her bed in the second bedroom in Number 4 had just woken up from a very vivid nightmare. It was not the first time she'd had bad dreams. In fact, they'd been getting more and more frequent lately, half-remembered glimpses of terrible things that kept her awake and sweaty far more often than she'd have liked. In those faded, jumbled images of two boys, a girl, and a war Jasmine Dursley felt at the same time more depressed and more comforted than in her every day in school or at home. The images would refuse to settle into something coherent, as if they were chopped vegetables in some great cauldron and a massive but unseen ladle stirred and mixed them every so often. And wasn't that image weird? Why a cauldron of all things? She was sure Mom had never owned such a beastly, unsophisticated piece of kitchenware and yet Jasmine was sure she'd seen one before... used it even.

 _She was a perfectly normal girl._

No, she didn't believe she was. Normal girls didn't have nightmates about bloody wars like a retired soldier! Jumbled as they were, those images showed things and people Jasmine felt she was intimately familiar with, and yet something told her they were alien and freakish at the same time. Scowling at the ceiling, she remembered how her seventh birthday that day had felt like one of those charades in Arts clas, empty of feeling and meaning, a lie. The nightmares from last night had intruded, and Jasmine's easy jokes with Marci, Judith, and Betty had been cut abruptly short. The cake had tasted like ashes; had it been a lie too? She'd retreated to her room as soon as her friends had left, only making a token effort to open her presents. She hadn't told anything to her parents either; they didn't cope well with strange things and had always strongly insisted they were perfectly normal. Until a few days ago Jasmine would have agreed with them, but no longer. But if she wasn't a perfectly normal girl, what was she?

 _She was seven years old._

But then, why did she feel much older? Why were all her nightmares about older people, and why did she feel as close to them as with her loving family? OK, Dudley was not the best brother but Mom and Dad loved them both a lot... perhaps even too much. And where had that idea come from? What did she know about smothering parents, and where had a seven-year-old even learned the idea of smothering parents? However happy she felt every time Mom hugged her or Dad ruffled her hair, she felt a strange unease every morning, in those moments when she wasn't quite sleeping but not yet fully awake. Marci, Judith, and Betty had commented several times that Jasmine looked distacted and not there in their games. How could she not be when those games felt simplistic to her now? Even her lessons were simple now. Not dancing and music, but every subject at school. From a good but not very diligent student she'd suddenly jumped to being best in class, as if the problems and essays were far below her level. Impossible as it seemed, deep down she felt as if she wasn't a seven-year-old at all.

 _She was Jasmine Dursley._

Was she? Was she really? She did look a lot like Mom had as a kid, she'd seen pictures. But she didn't look like Dad at all. Struggling between pride and shame, she could also admit she was more good-looking than Mom had ever been... and she was a redhead. She remembered the neighbors' whispers about her when Mom had first let her play with other kids, remembered and could now understand them that she was older. Words like "bastard" and phrases like "out of wedlock" had concrete meaning to her... far more than they should have for a seven-year-old. That realization alone was a clue too. And then, there were the dreams, those that had come long before the nightmares when Jasmine was little. Of being the boy with the magic sword who'd saved the damsel in distress from the serpent. Of being the brave knight on his loyal steed charging the dragon. Of being the young king with his shiny crown leading his knights against the foul evil wizard. Why was Jasmine a boy in her dreams? Why was her every nightmare about a young man? She tried to focus on the memories, remember the young man's face, but the invisible ladle stirred the cauldron that was her mind once more. Jasmine did not stop trying though. She was stubborn more than she was anything else and she wanted to see that face. It had been her birthday and she was entitled to a wish, damn it! Memories slipping through mental fingers again and again, she dragged the pieces of that image from the corners of her mind through sheer will. Memories that were her own and yet not churned like water in a whirlpool, but the pieces held together by her will resisted the current. Piece by piece she reconstructed the image; it felt like swimming upriver, running a marathon, and beating her head against the wall at the same time. But ultimately she won... and something foreign and unwelcome snapped and vanished from her mind.

Harry Potter jumped off his bed in the body of a girl, barely holding in a scream. It was a minute past midnight, November the first 1987.

 **xxxx**

No, no, no, no no!

Harry tiptoed down the stairs to the bathroom with as much stealth as he could muster in this foreign body. He wanted to scream, but he wanted to wake the Dursleys even less. Slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door as silently and firmly as she... he could behind him, he turned on the light and stared at the large mirror. What looked back at him was definitely not Harry Potter.

Hazel eyes, long red hair, a less blocky, heart-shaped face. Taller, definitely taller than Harry had been at that age, but with the same wiry strength in her limbs. Far more baby fat though, and not a single sign of malnourishment or frequent punishments. And obviously female, of course; looking in the mirror had only killed Harry's last, fading hope that it would not be so, for he could feel a very important absence in this new body of his, and he didn't mean the decade or so of additional growth.

How the bloody hell had that happened? And why did he think he was Jasmine Dursley for years and years? He could remember everything; growing up as Dudley's sister, getting presents like he had, dance lessons, music lessons, making friends at school... talking about clothes, and cute things, and how stupid boys were with other girls... ugh. At least she... he had never played with dolls. He also remembered life as Harry Potter now. He hadn't up till yesterday but wasn't sure why. Something very fishy was going on, beyond this being someone's idea of a huge joke. He could accept Fate being a bitch; he'd lived it after all. But having to live and act as a girl? He'd asked Hermione how Polyjuicing into him had felt once. Just once though; his best female friend knew some mean hexes and was not afraid to use them.

Since the whole situation of him growing up with the Dursleys was the same at its core, there was a good chance this whole crazy situation was more than Fate being angry at him for trying to mess up the game by erasing his Destiny. He was beginning to think that treating the Game of Life as a joke back in Limbo had been a huge mistake on his part. It had been called the "Game of Life" and he'd found it in Limbo, for Merlin's sake! A place he'd come back from once before, getting to return to life. What if this was exactly like before, except he had come back earlier?

Jasmine Dursley's body shuddered as the spirit inhabiting it considered the implications. Harry had asked for Loving Family, and the Dursleys loved who he appeared to be. He'd erased his Chosen One status, and there was no evidence of a scar on this body's forehead. He'd asked to be Harmless and Cute, and this body was that with spades. Maybe that had something with him being a girl now? And what of the other changes he'd made? He did not remember any cases of accidental magic in his years with the Dursleys; not a single one. No color-changing or unruly hair or eyes either, as a potential born Metamorph would have. And why had he only started to think about all this a few days ago? Why had he been content to be Jasmine Dursley for the past several years? His life being easy and fun would have been a factor, but not by that much.

Harry concentrated on what he could remember feeling about the recent changes. He turned away from the mirror even; that cute baby scowl his current body had was quite distracting in a hilarious and horrifying sort of way. Hmm... something about being Jasmine Dursley... about being seven again... about being... perfectly... normal! How could he possibly have missed that? He focused on the memories where that soft voice he'd heard in the back of his mind had been the strongest, all revolving about his past several birthdays - especially this one. The memories of his past life almost intentionally slipping through his mental grasp, his actions being almost directed... that feeling of something snapping in his thoughts. Suddenly Harry did not just suspect; he knew beyond doubt. As wave after wave of anger filled his thoughts and Jasmine Dursley's face in the mirror went all red and pouty, information poured in his mind in a way that had only felt when examining the Game of Life in Limbo.

 _You have snapped out of a major Compulsion for the first time, specifically the Imperius Curse; your Conviction has gone up by one._

What the bloody hell?

 **xxxx**

 _ **JASMINE DURSLEY ?  
**_

 _ **Age:**_ _7_ _ **Gender:**_ _female ?_ _ **Hair:**_ _Red ?_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Hazel ?_

 _ **Concept: **__Half-Blood Witch ?  
_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Accidental Magic, Inheritance, Quick Recovery, Happy Family, Uncanny Awareness, Harmless and Cute, A Thousand Faces  
_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Doing the Right Thing, I Need to Know, Trouble Magnet, Loyal Friend, Cautious  
_

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _50_ _ **Endurance:**_ _12_ _ **Intellect:**_ _50_ _ **Conviction:**_ _74_ _ **Presence:**_ _50_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _60/60_ _ **Energy:**_ _888/888_


	3. I Can Haz Skillz?

**Another quick update. Some information on the game mechanics and the Harry/Jasmine issue. At least one of you guys and gals guessed correctly. Not going to say who though. The "game" aspect is more immersive than Harry immediately knowing about and accepting the game, mainly because Harry has to learn about RPGs as he goes, and because the mechanics are simulationist. At least he didn't get saddled with the GURPS system where 200 hours of grinding would give a single character point.**

 **Disclaimer: Did Tom Riddle's voluntary use of his magic at age eleven appear alarming to Albus Dumbledore instead of the amazing, praise-worthy achievement that it was? If yes, Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to JK Rowling and this story is entirely free and for fun.**

 **xxxx**

Harry was in the second bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive, pretending to be sick. Vernon was running his business as he always did, and Petunia was downstairs preparing some chicken soup for her sick daughter. Dudley had left for summer camp two days ago, when Jasmine's sickness had first manifested and she had to be left behind. The pretence was not far from the truth. Breaking through the Imperius Curse by remembering his past life after years of happily living as a girl would not come easily to a grown man, let alone a seven-year-old.

"This is bull!" He said at the ceiling in the high-pitched voice of this new body. "Is this your idea of a joke? A girl's body, no magic, living with the Dursleys? I chose Accidental Magic and Happy family, damn it! Fate is a filthy cheater!" He tried to growl, but it wouldn't come out as truly threatening no matter what he tried; this body was simply not meant for anything more aggressive than a pout.

"You know what, I don't care about Fate." He said, his anger increasing to dangerous levels. "I'm going to prove I can beat this huge cosmic joke, get magic somehow, and make my own way in the world." He sat in the bed, furious at life, the universe, and everything. This was almost as cruel as the cupboard... no, it was worse. For the cupboard he could blame the Dursleys, Voldemort, the Prophesy/Fate, and maybe Dumbledore. For this... he had no evidence that anyone was to blame. The Dursleys certainly treated Jasmine as their beloved daughter - so much so that Harry was surprised he hadn't been hopelessly spoiled. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't direct his anger at them for this; it wouldn't be fair. After the way his previous life had ended and the indeterminate amount of time he'd spent wandering aimlessly in Limbo, we wanted a target for his anger. He wanted to curse someone, break something! His seven-year-old body's hands clenched until Jasmine's unusually long (for Harry's sensibilities) nails bit through the skin and drew blood. Dainty teeth ground together and a very cute face made an admirable attempt to appear ugly and intimidating.

CRASH!

The glass of water Mo... Petunia had left on the bedside table just in case her beloved daughter felt thirsty but was too sick to get up or call out swung off the table on its own accord and fell on the floor, shattering to a thousand pieces. What caught Harry's attention about the incident though was that he had not even touched the glass at all. For a moment he stood there gaping, then was jolted out of his stupor by the now familiar feeling of information pouring into his mind.

 _You've had your first conscious use of Accidental Magic! Your Conviction has increased by 1. You've gained the skill Accidental Magic at rank 1._

He had magic! Magic! He wasn't a squib, or the Dursleys' muggle daughter! He wasn't crazy, either! He felt like doing a victory dance right there, but thought better of it. He didn't want to be put to the loony bin, or draw Mo... Petunia's attention. Since the Dursleys knew about magic, anything unusual would immediately rouse their suspicions. And telling them that his being Fate's favourite chew toy had manifested as his life becoming some sort of game would definitely make them react badly. Hell, it would make even wizards react badly. Harry, or rather Jasmine, would sound as crazy as Luna Lovegood. Even he couldn't believe it, and he was living this crazy game thing! What was an Accidental Magic "skill" other than an oxymoron anyway? As he thought about it, more information flowed into his mind.

 _Accidental Magic Rank 1_

 _You have some measure of control over your Magic without wands or formal training. Chance of using Underage Magic voluntarily 1% per rank. Chance of controlling Underage Magic on involuntary activations 1% per rank. Power of voluntary Underage Magic at 1% of Conviction per rank. Uses for next rank 1/8. Underage Magic effects available: Levitation. 1 additional effect per 5 ranks._

That was... pretty useless. Now that his immediate excitement had ebbed, he realized Fate was not going to let him escape so easily. Magic that worked one time out of a hundred and could currently lift half a pound was pitiful compared to even Ron's first-year skills. Then again, he didn't have a wand and he had a seven-year-old body... He had hoped his skills from his old life would have remained much like they had the first time he'd been allowed to return to life, but it had been just wishful thinking. Fate had messed up his life in so many ways; what was one more? But this information, this skill... it said it could increase with use. A very small number of uses, too. What if...

Harry put all his effort, his will, his emotions behind his next attempt to use magic. It reminded him a bit of how he'd won the battle of wills with Voldemort, or how he had to put in tremendous effort when learning the Patronus. Even so, it took him nearly two minutes to push a pillow off the bed. By the time he was done, he felt like he'd been sprinting or fighting for the whole time. But the results were worth it. He had to move the pillow only six more times before he saw whether this description was a joke or not.

 **xxxx**

 _Accidental Magic Rank 2_

 _You have some measure of control over your_ _ _Magic without wands or formal training_. Chance of using Underage Magic voluntarily 2% (1/rank). Chance of controlling Underage Magic on involuntary activation ___2% (1/rank)._ Power of voluntary Underage Magic at ___2% (1/rank)_ of Conviction. Uses for next rank 8/27. Underage Magic effects available: Move Object. 1 additional effect per 5 ranks._

Nearly twenty minutes of the hardest mental gymnastics Harry had ever put himself through except for when he'd been taught Occlumency by Snape, Harry had managed to get to the second "skill rank", according to the game's message. He'd also managed to sweat about as much as a marathon runner, his head pounded like a drum, his vision was swimming, his chest and lungs hurt as if he'd been kicked repeatedly by a Centaur and he had almost blacked out twice. Not many times in his past life had he managed to get to this level of exhaustion through sheer mental and magical effort. Even the entire Battle of Hogwarts had exhausted him more physically and emotionally than through the spells he'd cast. What was different now?

 _Energy: 15/888 Condition: Total Exhaustion_

Moving a small pillow seven times had taken that much out of him? Bloody hell! But... but he'd managed Apparition through accidental magic at this age in his past life without even noticing the effort it had taken! This was totally unfair! Yeah it was controlled magic but his real mum, Lily Potter, had done a lot bigger controlled magic with much less effort at that age. Same with Snape. Hell, Fred and George had transfigured Ron's toy into a spider at a similar age, and Hermione could do a few minor tricks as far back as she could remember. So what was diff... the Imperius Curse! He'd been commanded to be a "perfectly normal girl"... that was why he'd never done Accidental Magic in this new life before! And if he'd been forced not to do magic...

Harry shuddered, remembering the nastier cases of damaged witches and wizards he'd met or known about in his previous life. Neville, whose confidence was so abysmal it had taken life-threatening situations for him to develop as a wizard. Ron, whose overbearing family had pushed him into not caring about becoming a better wizard, no matter how much he said he wanted to. Luna, whose mother's death had pushed her into using her father's stories as a mask against responding emotionally. Dumbledore's sister, whose abuse at the hands of muggles and subsequent isolation had never allowed her to develop control at all. Was Harry like them now?

No. With determination, the reborn Gryffindor vowed he wouldn't become a damaged wizard... or witch, as the case may be. Fate might have played this enormous cosmic joke at his expense, but it would NOT have the last laugh. He could regain the magical abilities seven years of being forced not to do magic had robbed him of. No matter how hard it was, how tired it made him feel, he'd do it. But maybe he should recover his energy first? He really didn't want Petunia to find "her beloved daughter" passed out. That way lay long stays in a muggle hospital with no freedom to do what he needed to do.

 _Energy: 24/888 Condition: Total Exhaustion_

OK, maybe a _little_ bit more rest than he'd been planning if recovery was so slow.

 **xxxx**

 _Accidental Magic Rank 10  
_

 _You have some measure of control over your_ _ _Magic without wands or formal training_. Chance of using Underage Magic voluntarily 10_ _ _% (1/rank)_. Chance of controlling Underage Magic on involuntary activation ___2% (1/rank)._ Power of voluntary Underage Magic at ___10% (1/rank)_ of Conviction. Uses for next rank 1000/1331. Underage Magic effects available: Move Object, two more yet to be picked._

Jasmine Dursley's sickness lasted for the first two weeks of August. Every morning she'd wake up mostly fine, even though she'd complain a bit about her aching head. But over the course of the day she'd become exhausted, sweaty and feverish, her eyes would go red as the day went on, and she wouldn't have the energy to do anything, not even the things she really loved such as playing with other girls in the neighbourhood park, practice her music, or dance. She'd spend most of her time in bed with an alarmed and worried Petunia Dursley checking on her every so often and spoon-feeding her chicken soup when she was too tired or feverish to eat on her own.

A loving, caring Petunia was something Harry had never seen before, at least not aimed at him. An even more incredibly patient, smiling, fatherly Vernon came back from Grunnings Inc. every night and spent some time with his "little princess", trying to lift her spirits and help her overcome the sickness and get well as soon as possible. It had unnerved him at first, then made him angry. If the Dursleys could care for a child like that, why hadn't they cared about him in his past life? What had changed? Was it the lack of accidental magic? Was it the fact that he was a girl now? Why did they treat Jasmine like this when she was no more their child than Harry had been?

Because not even Harry was so much of an idiot to miss the significance of Jasmine's appearance. Red hair, hazel eyes, both the exact same shade as those of Lily and James Potter respectively? Only a lightning-shaped scar in the forehead would have been more blatant a clue, but Jasmine lacked that one... probably because of Harry's meddling with Fate's game and/or Fate's meddling with Harry's life. Unless... Harry gasped as a terrible new thought occurred to him, and the seven-year-old he inhabited paled considerably. Deciding this pretend sickness had lasted long enough and really needing to confirm or disprove his new fear, he made a beeline for the bathroom.

His nausea and embarrassment at having a girl's body took a back seat to his fear. Way, way, way back... for what he feared was Horcruxes. Checking arms, legs, chest and back on the full-body mirror, he made sure the Killing Curse had not hit Jasmine in any place other than the forehead. He even checked the girl's scalp inch by inch, parting her red mane again and again to carefully prod at the skin beneath. When no strange lightning-bolt shaped scars made an appearance, he almost collapsed in relief... the barely managed to scramble to the toilet seat before losing his last plate of chicken soup.

"Darling, are you OK?" came Mo... Petunia's worried voice from outside the door.

"I'm fine, Mum! In fact, I'm feeling better!" He answered, trying not to sound as if he'd just heaved his guts out. " I'm going to take a shower. It's been ages since I had one, I stink!"

"Alright poppet!" Petunia said with a note of happiness in her voice; her little girl was feeling better! "Call if you need anything!"

 _Through repeated use, your Ad-Lib skill has increased to rank 47._

Wait, what? Harry scowled at the message sent directly to his mind, something that didn't seem exactly sane. He had cause though; he'd never gotten a message about such a skill before. The only messages he'd received had been about his Accidental Magic, which wasn't so accidental any more. He could now levitate as much with magic as Jasmine's body could with her hands, though it took him about ten seconds of effort to manage a short-lived effect. That was at skill level 10... and now he suddenly had another skill at level 47? Where had it come from? Did he or Jasmine have any other skills? He really needed to know if he wanted to beat Fate at its own game and take control of his life. Focusing on that need, a list appeared in his mind.

 _PHYSICAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 2 Athletics: Running rank 20, Children's Games rank 45, Climbing rank 20, Dancing rank 30_

 _Tier 1 Combat: Brawling rank 5, Dodging rank 5, Ignore Pain rank 60 (legacy bonus), Ignore Physical Penalty rank 70 (legacy bonus)_

 _Tier 2 Housework: Cooking rank 20 (legacy bonus), Gardening rank 30 (legacy bonus), Basic Repair rank 20 (legacy bonus), Cleaning rank 30 (legacy bonus)_

 _MENTAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 2 Academics: Speed Reading rank 5, Information Search rank 20 (legacy bonus), Memorization rank 30 (legacy bonus), Basic English 40 (legacy bonus)  
_

 _Tier 3 History/Culture: Magical Britain rank 50 (legacy bonus), Muggle Britain rank 25 (legacy bonus), Magical World rank 10 (legacy bonus), Muggle World rank 10_

 _Tier 1 Science: Basic Math rank 30 (legacy bonus), Basic Physics rank 20 (legacy bonus), Basic Biology/Chemistry rank 20 (legacy bonus)_

 _SOCIAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 3 Interaction: Rapport rank 30, Empathy rank 20, Persuasion rank 20, Inspiration rank 25 (legacy bonus)_

 _Tier 3 Performance: Ad-Lib rank 47, Impersonation rank 45, Deception rank 20_

 _Tier 2 Art: Music rank 20, Dancing rank 15, Singing rank 10_

 _MAGICAL TALENTS_

 _Tier 1 Magic Lore: Accidental Magic rank 10, Sense Magic rank 0 (undiscovered)  
_

 _Tier 3 Dueling: Aiming rank 30 (legacy bonus), Ignore Magical Penalty 30 (legacy bonus), Ignore Mental Penalty 50 (legacy bonus)_

 _Tier 3 Divination: Strange Senses rank Max (quest advantage)_

 _Tier 1 Inborn Ability: Shift Colour rank 0 (restricted), Alter Features rank 0 (restricted)_

Jasmine Dursley, previously known as Harry Potter, almost slipped and hit her head on the bathtub when he/she saw the extent of that list. Jasmine's fairly good reflexes kicked in though, and they caught themselves in time. Then the reborn Harry Potter smiled.


	4. Quest Time

**Yay, another update. Still short as it is a bonus chapter in addition to the full-length one I'll be writing tonight for one of my other stories. A bit more insight into the system and Harry/Jasmine's first quest. As for the gender issues, Harry never struck me as someone with strong gender identity; he'd barely been aware of girls for three years by the time of his death. And metamorphs, who can turn into anyone they want, usually identify either with their birth identity or with an identity of their choice once they become able to change their appearrance at will. Harry/Jasmine are far from making that decision... and they'll need to find out what's going on with their powers being 'restricted' before it happens.**

 **xxxx**

"Sweetie, your father and I are going out. Don't stay up too late, OK?"

Yes, because asking politely would certainly convince the average seven-year-old to behave when her parents weren't available to supervise. Harry sighed and responded with a generic non-promise and farewell that seemed to satisfy Jasmine's parents. Petunia meant well, she really did. She just didn't have the right skills a mother needed. Even Harry knew as much and he was an eighteen-year-old dead man in the body of a little girl.

Since Dudley was away and the Dursleys didn't have any problems leaving Jasmine on her own for a few hours as they had had with Harry in his previous life, he'd have several hours on his own before they returned from visiting Petunia's friend Yvonne. For once in his life in Number 4 Privet Drive he was tempted to lie in for the entire day and do nothing in particular, but he savagely quashed the notion. Over the past two weeks' worth of evenings he'd finished most of Jasmine's summer homework in between his long sessions of Accidental Magic, but he'd yet to try his hand at music or dancing... and not only because the magic had left him too tired to perform.

He'd been ignoring all of Jasmine's favourite pastimes and hobbies that his previous life had not included, hoping they'd just go away. Annoyingly, he'd begun to actually miss them, memories of a little girl's happiness when she learned the steps to a new dance or mastered a new song haunting his mind. He remembered living through those years as Jasmine just fine, his memories of the time just as strong as his Hogwarts days. Other than Jasmine's looks, it was the first indication he had that he had actually lived as Jasmine Dursley instead of merely taking over her life, possessing her body. Jasmine's likes and dislikes, her personality, seemed to be adding to his own instead of clashing.

With a very ladylike sigh (however much he'd tried for the opposite), he went through one of Jasmine's typical summer days. Cooking and cleaning in the morning, music and a bit of dancing during the hottest hours, a small rest, and then an hour or two of gardening in the evening before the sun fell. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he felt almost as happy doing what he'd once considered chores as he would have felt flying on a broom. Mind-numbing boredom and simmering resentment had turned to pride for a job well done, expectation of Petunia's beaming smile when the Dursleys returned to find the house in pristine condition, the satisfaction of knowing she could become a great housewife in the future, if she wanted to. Harry didn't dwell on how cringe-worthy was that realization; he just enjoyed the moment.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and his day did when it came to the garden. The Dursleys' lawn was perfect as always, the various flowers neatly arranged and trimmed, everything watered and cared for to perfection... except for a patch of big, ugly mushrooms in the back yard. A patch of half-dozen foot-high umbrella-like things in a suspiciously dark purple colour encroached on Petunia's pride and joy.

"What the bloody hell are these?" Jasmine's mouth uttered with uncharacteristic profanity, the girl's face scowling prettily at the abnormal growth. Inwardly, Harry hoped fervently that his suspicions were wrong, that those couldn't be what he thought they were. His hopes were dashed by a message magically appearing in his mind.

 _Horklumps; fleshy, pinkish, mushroom-like parasites attracted to magical homes and locations. Physically tough and capable of rapid growth, they can infest an entire garden within a day or two. Your discovery of your first magical creature has unlocked the Magizoology talent group and given you Rank 1 in Creature Identification._

Oh no. If that description was accurate, then Petunia's prized garden would be destroyed! Worse still, the Dursleys couldn't fail to notice the obviously magical nature of the Horklumps... and begin wondering why magical parasites were drawn to their house. She... he reached out for the nearest magical parasite and tried to pull it out of the ground.

That was when he found out the black bristles it was covered into were not for show... the hard way. They lengthened into short spikes like those found in roses a split second after he applied as much force as he could while inhabiting a seven-year-old girl's body. They bit deeply into Jasmine's small hands, the sudden sharp pain forcing a gasp out of her tiny mouth, and the girl's body involuntarily jumped back. Then they reverted into bristles. Harry glared at the innocent-looking parasitic growth as it stood there almost smugly in its immobility. Then a message appeared in his mind.

 _Health: 58/60_

First he was going to bandage his wounds. Then he would raid Vernon's garage for a saw and a pickaxe and Jasmine Dursley and the Horklumps would have round two of their fight.

 **xxxx**

Using any sort of tool that relied on muscle power as a seven-year-old girl was... problematic. Harry did not remember being any stronger in his old life at that age; starvation had made sure of it. But he'd also had far more experience with pure physical labour than Jasmine and could apply the tools more efficiently. Alas, experience and technique didn't appear to have carried over in his new life.

His second problem was that the Horklumps were about as easy to cut into as a rubber tyre. A minute's work had only produced a small gash less than an inch deep and the magical parasite seemed to be healing at a not-insignificant rate if she stopped to rest. With the single-mindedness that had been his trademark in the previous life, he kept at it minute after minute until he'd cut through half the mushroom-like parasite's base twenty minutes later... and managed to entirely exhaust Jasmine's young body.

 _Energy: 73/888_

Grumbling at the offending message under his breath he kicked the annoyingly persistent parasite to no effect. Then, anger getting the better of him, she started hacking at its base with the pickaxe. If it could not be cut, it could be uprooted. After several rather violent blows, the Horklump was finally torn out of the ground, trailing finger-thin whitish tentacles. He'd jump in triumph if he could. Instead, he collapsed on the grass-covered back yard and took in some frantic deep breaths. Sweat was pouring down Jasmine's face and back but Harry didn't mind; victory was his.

 _Energy: 21/888_

Yes, yes, near-total exhaustion. Who cared? One Horklump down, several more soon to fall. The neighbours might be surprised if they saw Jasmine lying on the ground, so with great effort he had his pre-teen body retire to the house. Some washing, some cold juice, and half an hour of rest later he felt ready to tackle the remaining Horklumps.

 _Energy: 104/888_

As soon as he got out though, he came up against a nasty surprise; three new Horklumps had already sprouted and almost fully grown while he'd been resting...

 **xxxx**

Trying to dig up the remaining magical parasites proved to be impossible; not only were they growing slightly faster than a girl of Jasmine's age could keep up with, but they were also spreading this collective network of underground tentacles that was proving much harder to kill. He should have expected it, really; if they could overrun an entire garden in a day or two, at least half a dozen new parasites would need to grow in an hour... and that was an optimistic estimate. The Dursleys' garden was doomed.

Or it would be if Jasmine had stuck to purely physical means of fighting them. Unfortunately for the little buggers, the reborn Harry Potter was a witch with at least some control of her Accidental Magic. Ripping a Horklump out of the ground took her about ten seconds of intense concentration now, and in mere minutes she... he had all two dozen of them nasty little parasites out of the garden.

Energy: 7/888

"Ha ha! Take that you mushroom-shaped, annoyingly persistent, regenerating pains in the arse! All of you ripped out and with energy left to spare!" Having no mouth, the Horklumps couldn't talk back, and those he'd magically torn off the ground were probably dead anyway. Unfortunately, the network of tentacles they'd left behind Jasmine's magic had not managed to remove, and it was currently busy growing several new parasites. Harry had taken to ripping each new offence on his peace of mind out of the ground before it could grow in either size or defensive ability... but doing so every ten minutes wasn't something he could keep up forever. Sooner or later, Jasmine's young body would have to sleep and by the next morning the infestation would be well underway.

"Oh no, you don't!" Running to Vernon's garage again, he searched for anything that could help resolve the situation. Tools and machinery weren't going to cut it; something more extreme was needed. So little Jasmine used magic again to levitate a botte of gasoline from atop one of the highest shelves where Vernon had thought it unreachable by little children.

Stumbling back into the house, he appropriated a lighter from the kitchen and then shuffled her... his way to the back yard. Jasmine's exhaustion was reaching the point where the little girl's body was about to black out, but it couldn't be helped; the Dursleys would be back soon and Harry had to finish and cover his tracks before that could happen.

Pouring gasoline down the holes left by the uprooted (uptentacled?) Horklumps raised his spirits, and lighting the revolting tentacle nests on fire had him almost doing a happy dance. As the flames flickered in the gathering gloom of the late August evening, she kicked the dead Horklumps off the Dursleys' back yard then sat down with a relieved sigh, followed by a probably half-crazy giggle. Some of the stupidest, least harmful magical creatures he'd ever met had just taken him an entire afternoon to deal with and it had been almost as hard as the Dementors at the end of his Third Year. But finally, it was done. Jasmine's body and memories conjured a craving for toasted marshmallows as he stared at the now guttering flames, but Harry didn't feel up to doing any more work - not even preparing a simple snack.

He'd almost fallen asleep in the back yard when he realized he needed to cover up the holes and return the half-empty bottle of gasoline to Vernon's garage if he didn't want the Dursleys to have a reason to interrogate their beloved daughter.

 **xxxx**

"Sweetie, you look a bit under the weather." Petunia Dursley asked Jasmine only two hours later. "Are you OK? Did you relapse or anything?"

"M'fine, mum." Harry mumbled, half-asleep. He'd been so tired he'd passed out without changing into a nightgown and an alarmed Petunia had woken up Jasmine with her frantic attempts at finding out what was wrong with her little girl. It was sweet, but Harry didn't have the energy to appreciate it... or convince Petunia that he was OK. Luckily, the Dursleys had always been a bit gullible when it came to their own children; Dudley's behaviour in his past life had been proof of that.

"If you're sure." Petunia sighed, finally seeming to take Jasmine's protests at face value. Maybe the girl had tried dancing after her two-week-long sickness and not been up for it? She didn't really want to worry Vernon and Jasmine really didn't have any other symptoms. "Did you have fun, at least?" She asked a bit doubtfully.

"Yeah mum." Harry sighed and tried to be a little more convincing. "Cooking, and cleaning, and dancing, and gardening... everything was great!"

"All right, sweetie. Just don't overdo it next time hmm?" Petunia smiled down at her little girl, then kissed her goodnight and left. Harry enjoyed it despite his misgivings... even felt a bit guilty about his deception but then ruthlessly crushed that feeling before it could take hold. The door to Jasmine's room closed, the lights had been turned off for the night; it was time for a well-deserved rest.

 _Congratulations! You've accomplished your first major task, saving the Dursleys' garden. Reward: 1 attribute point. Bonus for keeping it secret from the Dursleys: 1 additional attribute point. Over the course of your life, major tasks, difficulties, and obstacles you overcome will be assigned by various individuals, taken up at your own choice as personal goals, or provided by circumstances at random. Completing such encounters will give you various benefits, from cash, to useful items and materials, to social standing. Pushing yourself while accomplishing them will often also reward attribute points usable in character development as your abilities and character improve in the face of adversity. Those bonuses are in addition to the standard 1 attribute point/month gained over the normal character development while growing up. Normally, all attribute points are automatically assigned according to character actions and circumstances, but the current game mode allows user input instead._

At the appearrance of that message, all thoughts of sleep vanished from Harry's mind.


	5. Random Encounters

**Yet another chapter in which Harry/Jasmine gets the short end of the stick. And wow! This story got in a couple of weeks as many follows and favourites as The Hogwarts Six got in two and a half months. A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favoured! As you can see, our hero is slowly getting the hang of the system even as you see it revealed bit by bit, while realizing just how far he/she still has to go. Bonus points to randomy for the funny and long reviews. White Squirrel: yes, the system can award stats (and other things) according to actions. Not everything is up to player agency. Inimicus: 1 attribute point per month is the basic attribute growth everybody gets. Further points are gained as rewards, and there are no character levels or character experience. bmatsea: Jasmine doesn't have a double dancing score. She has one for the physical act of dancing, and one for the social performance of using dancing to express herself and influence others.**

 **Disclaimer: In all his dismal childhood in the Dursleys, did Harry ever have a case of accidental magic end up being directly destructive other than blowing up Aunt Marge? If not, I do not own Harry Potter. He belongs to JK Rowling and this story is totally free and for fun.**

 **xxxx**

Once upon a simpler time, if someone had told Harry he'd need more experience in one of Dudley's favourite time-wasting hobbies he'd have recommended they seek professional help. Killing aliens or monsters and saving princesses on one's computer screen had never struck him as particularly sane, healthy, or productive. Being now older and wiser and the times being a little more complicated than that, it'd struck him that Dudley had gotten a far better deal. Harry, too, had slain monsters and saved princesses... only doing it in real life had been terrifying, terminally unhealthy, highly destructive to the surrounding area, and ultimately futile. Suddenly, doing all that from the safety of one's chair, with the fridge within reach in case you needed a snack, and the pause button available for when you felt like taking a relaxing break seemed that much smarter.

Nobody but Mrs Figg had ever accused Harry of being smart, and she was a batty old cat lady.

Fact one: Harry had been given a second chance at life with the not so minor drawback of it working like a game. Fact two: Harry knew as much about board or computer games as Dursley knew about magic and vice versa. Fact three: Harry had always wanted control over his life. Fact four: having control over your life but not knowing what to do with it sucked. So the intrepid hero of this game had ventured out into the layer of the dreaded Dudders beast to learn as much as possible about computer games. The locked door of Dudley's bedroom had been only a brief inconvenience for someone with limited control of their Accidental Magic, and after fighting trolls, animated corpses, and the basilisk hidden below Hogwarts' millennium-old plumbing system in his past life, Harry expected to have no trouble with said room being in less than pristine condition thanks to Dudley's abysmal cleaning skills.

Unfortunately, growing up as Jasmine Dursley for the past few years must have left a deeper influence than Harry had thought, because the smell offended his new body's sensibilities, and the chaotic arrangement of broken toys, unclean boys' clothing, wrappers of countless sweets long since devoured and other similar paraphernalia had Jasmine's body shaking with rage. How dare her brother leave his room in this condition! Didn't he care what mum would think? Aunt Marge? Mum's friends and neighbours?! Cleanliness was next to godliness, an Dudley was a bloated, dim-witted, useless little devil!

CRACK!

 _Accidental Magic control failed. Random opposing effect against source of strong emotion created._

Out of a suddenly appearing small crack in the wood of Dudley's bed came several tiny black bugs Harry vaguely recalled from some Care of Magical Creatures lesson long ago; nonmagical wood lice. He did not recall why that half-forgotten lesson had included the wood-eating crustaceans and he did not particularly care. What he did care about was that they suddenly started growing at an alarming pace, in mere moments becoming the size of rats. Apparently, Harry's - or rather Jasmine's - Accidental Magic considered the consumption of Dudley's furniture and potentially his entire room by overgrown pests an excellent idea.

Once upon a time, Dudley's comeuppance arriving due to his own laziness would have been amusing to Harry, but now he saw this event as what it was; major trouble. The Dursleys knew about magic. Gigantic wood lice did not exist in nature. Dudley was away on that stupid camp of his and neither Dursley parent had magical abilities. It didn't take a genius to follow that train of thought to its foregone conclusion, so Harry only had one option; save Dudley's room from the threat Jasmine's magic had created. Picking up one of Dudley's many broken toys, Harry aimed at the closest scurrying crustacean and swung with all of Jasmine's dubious might!

WHAM!

Undeterred by a not particularly strong seven-year-old girl whaling at it with a pound or so of plastic, the thickly armoured bug simply scurried closer and before Jasmine could jump back in horror, latched on to the girl's shoe. Moments later, the unusually aggressive arthropod tore through the thick fabric as easily as it did through worn wood when it had been much smaller, perhaps urged by lingering magic. Feeling a sharp pain and not exactly calm at being assaulted by the foot-long bug, Jasmine blindly kicked the thing across the room. It just curled up into a ball, bounced a few times, then uncurled and went about its business none the worse for wear.

 _ **Health:** 58/60_

Harry's well-honed combat instincts kicked in. Realizing in an instant that Jasmine's seven-year-old body could do little damage to half-inch-thick chitin, he made a tactical withdrawal and shut the door behind him. He had no idea how long the lice would remain giant-sized or how exactly they would behave. If he was very, very lucky, they'd only last for a minute or two and be too disoriented by their change in environment to do any damage. Harry knew he wasn't so lucky though, not by a long shot. Thus he ran downstairs in search of appropriate weaponry. Half a minute later he was fully armed and ready to do battle with the forces of Darkness - or at least monumentally bad luck. He charged through the door with a cinematic kick.

 **xxxx**

The first louse was knocked back by Harry's abrupt entrance and ended upside-down and helpless. He didn't lose any time being surprised by that stroke of good luck; he put the lighter and Petunia's hair spray to good use, and in mere moments the louse had been thoroughly fried. The second louse he caught in the open, immobilised with one of Dudley's heaviest broken toys and incinerated as well.

The remaining lice were harder; they refused to stand still and be burned to death and both Harry and Jasmine agreed on one thing; there was no way they were picking them up by hand. Fortunately, they had something the muggles didn't; somewhat controllable Accidental Magic. After several weeks of practice harder than any Harry had done in his past life except for the Patronus Charm, he could levitate medium-sized objects after ten seconds of concentration or so. Half a minute later all of the enlarged bugs had been incinerated, and returned to their initial diminutive size as the accidental enlargement failed.

 _ **Health:** 54/60 **Energy:** 748/888_

Harry let Jasmine's body collapse on Dudley's bed as she... he caught his breath. That could have been much, much worse. There could have been more lice, they could have been enlarged a lot further... they could have been changed to breathe fire like a dragon. No joke; he'd once seen a fire-breathing chicken in his previous life. That he had struggled to deal with what was essentially a minor accident even a first-year student would have easily managed just underscored in how risky a situation he was. If anyone from the magical world ever stumbled upon little seven-year-old Jasmine's secret, there wouldn't be anything Harry could do to help. Sighing, he started cleaning the mess he'd made during the lousy fight, trying to restore Dudley's room to its previous casually neglected condition. Twenty minutes later, all evidence of Jasmine's latest escapade had been removed.

 _Congratulations; you've just survived your first random encounter without calling undue attention to yourself and/or serious maiming. Reward: 1 attribute point. From time to time circumstances, unlikely coincidences, unwise decisions, or sufficient exploration will set you against challenges no-one arranged or could have predicted. In many cases such encounters can be avoided by deciding on the better part of valour when they trigger, or exercising caution and common sense in advance. In others, accidents are an unavoidable part of life, especially wizarding life. Overcoming random encounters can give rewards or help avoid penalties, and in any case is an opportunity to exercise one's skills without too much of a risk. No pain, no gain._

Again with the wise ass commentary. Who wrote those descriptions, and could Harry have a few choice words with them? Grumbling at the unfairness of life, the universe, and everything, Harry glared at what had been his original goal so long (i.e. about an hour) ago: Dudley's computer. In retrospect, he had no idea how to even turn the thing on, let alone how to play any of Dudley's computer games and learn from it. Maybe he should ask Dudley when he came back. Jasmine's relationship with her apparent brother was not nearly as bad as Harry's had been in his previous life, her rage about his dirty room notwithstanding. Dudley would ask for a favour or two for it, but his help would be invaluable... or so Harry hoped. But Dudley was still at summer camp, and "Jasmine" had some decision-making to do.

With a bit of mental effort, Harry brought up Jasmine's bio in his mind - or what passed for it in this messed up Game of Life.

 _ **JASMINE DURSLEY ?  
**_

 _ **Age:**_ _7_ _ **Gender:**_ _female ?_ _ **Hair:**_ _Red ?_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Hazel ?_

 _ **Concept: **__Half-Blood Witch ?  
_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Accidental Magic, Inheritance, Quick Recovery, Happy Family, Uncanny Awareness, Harmless and Cute, A Thousand Faces  
_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Doing the Right Thing, I Need to Know, Trouble Magnet, Loyal Friend, Cautious  
_

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _50_ _ **Endurance:**_ _12_ _ **Intellect:**_ _50_ _ **Conviction:**_ _74_ _ **Presence:**_ _50_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _54/60_ _ **Energy:**_ _757/888_

According to the game, he had "won" three attribute points total over the past few weeks. He had no idea how well these numbers represented reality and how much the game's rules influenced the real world, but so far he had to say they were pretty accurate. Although fast, smart, and very strong-willed for her age, Jasmine was neither particularly strong, nor had great reserves of stamina, and got the short end of the stick when it came to luck about as often as Harry had, but for different reasons. The lack of stamina in particular was the main limitation in everything Harry wanted to do to change things in this new life; less than twenty minutes of hard work would often leave Jasmine totally exhausted and it would take nearly five hours of rest to recover completely. So why not change that? It would even be proof that this Game of Life was more than an elaborate joke designed by some mad dark wizard. How exactly did one use the attribute points they had, though? Did he have to concentrate on what he wanted to happen? Shout it out loud? Write it on a piece of parchment and...

DING!

 _You have chosen to use your hard-won attribute points. You have chosen to increase Endurance by 3._

 _ **JASMINE DURSLEY ?  
**_

 _ **Age:**_ _7_ _ **Gender:**_ _female ?_ _ **Hair:**_ _Red ?_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Hazel ?_

 _ **Concept: **__Half-Blood Witch ?  
_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Accidental Magic, Inheritance, Quick Recovery, Happy Family, Uncanny Awareness, Harmless and Cute, A Thousand Faces  
_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Doing the Right Thing, I Need to Know, Trouble Magnet, Loyal Friend, Cautious  
_

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _50_ _ **Endurance:**_ _15_ _ **Intellect:**_ _50_ _ **Conviction:**_ _74_ _ **Presence:**_ _50_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _69/75_ _ **Energy:**_ _988/1110_

It had worked! Apparently, one only needed to make a firm and deliberate decision. Jasmine's energy and health had changed in her sheet and, far more importantly, in real life. Harry felt the pain in Jasmine's right foot diminish a little bit and he also felt more refreshed and energetic as if Jasmine's previous exertions had been washed away... or rather become less significant. The game did affect Jasmine's life... Harry's own life, now. Or maybe life was reflected in the game instead? Hmm... no. Such a sudden change of ability was impossible in reality; people didn't inexplicably become tougher or gain increased stamina. Such things gradually increased through appropriate actions... which made Harry's situation even weirder.

At least he'd increased Jasmine's endurance after putting her body through month-long exhausting work. He could have just as easily increased her presence or intellect instead... which would have made absolutely no sense. Then again, this Game of Life was almost certainly magic or some higher cosmic power. Increasing one's mental ability through hard physical work made no less sense than an expansion charm making a box larger inside than it was outside, to say nothing about Hermione's repeated use of a Time Turner in her third year.

Finally convinced that the Game was for real, Harry prepared for the next challenge it would throw at him. As always, his luck was absolutely abysmal - he'd had random encounters with magical creatures within the Dursleys' house for Merlin's sake. But he was getting the hang of this, and had even made his first ever decision about his life freely and knowingly. It could have been worse - much worse.

At least this time he didn't have to face any Dementors.


	6. Player versus Player

**I'm glad you guys enjoy the story. Appreciate the reviews, too. Keep it up and the chapters will keep coming; feedback feeds us writers, you know. As with my other two stories, I have plot ideas for at least the protagonist's seventh year in Hogwarts so I don't expect to suddenly run dry - unless I get a bad care of writer's block or something.**

 **xxxx**

Harry woke up one morning and realized he'd been living Jasmine Dursley's life for a month. The realization hadn't come from any conscious awareness of the passage of days; he had actually been so busy with housework, homework, music, dancing, gardening, not-so-accidental magic, and the occasional magical accident that thoughts... nightmares of his past life did not intrude for days at a time.

No, what broke the admittedly pleasant routine he'd fallen into was a mental message about one extra attribute point due to growing one month older, and Dudley's triumphant return from summer camp along with his best friend Piers Polkiss. The attribute point he immediately put into Jasmine's Endurance. Dudley's return was a bit more complicated. For one thing, Dudley and Piers had returned from camp with their buddies Dennis, Gordon, and Malcolm. The five boys had been the worst bullies in their class for years but only now did they act like a true gang with Dudley as their leader. Apparently, all that bonding and physical workout they went through in the camp had really paid off. But the second and far bigger problem was that Jasmine was no longer under the Imperius Curse and the seven-year-old brain Harry had to work with had finally noticed the obvious, no, blatant discrepancy.

If Dudley had been born on June the 23rd and Jasmine on July the 31st, how could they possibly be siblings? And if they weren't siblings, why did everyone treat Jasmine as Petunia's daughter, including Petunia herself? They couldn't all possibly be under the Imperius! Not even Voldemort himself could have mentally controlled the entire population of Little Whinging at once... he hoped. But no other explanation was forthcoming. Once upon a happier life, Harry would have simply asked... and suffered the consequences. Whoever had put Jasmine here was not above using Unforgivables on a little girl and some sort of mind magic on everyone else... a mind magic that made teachers, parents, neighbours, even friends disregard the discrepancy of her birth and probably countless others again and again for as far back as Jasmine's memories covered. Even if only Dumbledore were involved, and from what Harry knew of the man he was certainly capable but probably unwilling to interfere to such an extent, Harry breaking through the cover-up would only result in a quick obliviation and another Imperius. Success was highly unlikely as long as Jasmine could barely outfight the weakest, most boring magical creatures ever so it was better to table the questions for later. Which only left problem number one to resolve.

For Dudley's welcome back party, Jasmine made pancakes, heaps of crispy bacon, brought out the honey and ground up some Parmezan cheese. She refrained from joking about Dudley's fruitier preferences in contrast with Harry's remembered love for the saltier, meatier filling. Petunia was making something complicated involving beef, mushrooms, flour, and wine that would take at least four or five hours to be ready so after a hearty breakfast the Dursley siblings went out for a walk. Dudley wanted to spend more time with his newly minted gang, and Jasmine wanted some free time to think things through. Naturally, they gravitated towards the nearby park.

Every plant and blade of grass in sight was parched and brittle from the unusually long-lasting heat wave of the past few weeks, and the park was mostly empty as saner people had retreated into their homes for the day to enjoy the shade, some lemonade, and an air-conditioned environment. At least the park itself was in a reasonably fine condition since Dudley's gang would only begin dismantling and vandalizing everything within reach come next year. Not feeling up to working a sweat in that kind of heat - Jasmine had a cute girl image to maintain after all - Harry idly watched the gang's antics while waiting for inspiration to strike. He wondered what Dudley and his minions had been up to in that camp. As Harry he'd been too busy with chores to even try to learn; he'd only seen the results as his cousin became beefier, more violent, and probably dumber. Even now seeing the boys stage mock fights from afar as Jasmine, he idly wondered who their next victim would be now that Harry Potter was not available as a punching bag. They'd always been bullies in both timelines and they were already practising skills and tactics that would allow them to entrap, overpower, and beat up victims half their size that they also outnumbered five to one. Very manly, that.

Dudley was already the largest, beefiest kid in school, surpassing most of the upperclassmen. Piers was wiry, but tall, quick, and surprisingly strong for his build. The others were variations of big, dumb, and ugly in slightly smaller proportions than Dudley himself and from the countless memories of being bullied Harry had retained, they seemed to be in a comparable shape to their alternate timeline counterparts. It would seem that even without Harry Hunting they'd managed to get into shape... the perfect shape for schoolyard bullying that was. A quick comparison of Jasmine's current view with Harry's memories showed that Dudley had developed exactly the same brawling techniques even.

 _Congratulations! You've unlocked the advanced Divination skill "Assessment". Using experience as a Diviner, sufficient foreknowledge, Seer skills, or other sources of arcane information along with careful observation, you can assess individuals and their capabilities at a glance. Current Skill Rank 1. Chance of successful assessment not accounting for divergence between your foreknowledge and reality; 51%. Info modified by current familiarity (Intellect + Skill rank). Chance of successful assessment despite divergence: 1% (Skill rank)._

Well now, that was interesting. Harry had always had a fairly reliable gut instinct but never anything that amounted to a Trelawney-level ability to read people. An obvious fraud she might have been, his old teacher had still surprised Harry with how easily she could get under people's skin and tell them exactly what they wanted to hear... the times she wasn't drunk or high at least. How much more could she have done had she any control of her talent, or something like Harry's foreknowledge?

 _ **DUDLEY DURSLEY**_

 _ **Age:** 7 **Gender:** male **Hair:** blond **Eyes:** brown_

 _ **Concept:** Vernon Dursley's heir_

 _ **Trouble:** greedy arse_

 _ **Benefits:** inheritance, connections, happy family, large and in charge, knowing what you want, ?, ?_

 _ **Drawbacks:** violent tendencies, gluttony, spoiled rotten, unsubtle and quick to anger, guilty by association, ?, ?_

 _ **Strength:** 10 **Agility:** 35 **Endurance:** 15 **Intellect:** 40 **Conviction:** 30 **Presence:** 50 **Destiny:** 50_

Huh, Dudley could actually lift his own weight... barely. That wasn't something Harry had expected, but so far those little mental messages had not steered him wrong. He was also smarter than Harry had believed in the older timeline, though a more mature and less resentful Harry could see now how that could be true. But how did Dudley have a significant Destiny score? He was a seven-year-old boy!

Harry never did get an answer to that question as at that moment Dudley's gang found exactly what they'd been lying in wait for; someone to relieve them of their boredom.

 **XXXX**

"Hey Tim, going somewhere?" Malcolm said in a real friendly way and the smaller, bespectacled boy that had just come out of Wisteria Walk bolted into a panicked run. Of course, that had been exactly what Dennis and Gordon had been waiting for. They intercepted Tim's path, forcing him to run into the open ground of the park rather than the side street he'd been aiming for. There, Piers put his longer legs to good use, caught up with him and knocked him over. The running boy lost his balance and took a disorienting tumble that ended right before Dudley's perch by the swings. By the time he climbed up, Tim was surrounded with no way out. Dudley's gang had put their new tactics to good use; Coach Johnson's scary stories about wild wolves and other dangerous predators had not failed them! And best of all, Dudley hadn't needed to get off his seat at all. Who would have wanted to, in this heat?

"You seem to be in a hurry, Timmy." Dudley said with a seemingly confused frown. "Not wanting to meet your old mates?" Tim was one of those freaks in school who only cared about grades; he'd never be Dudley's mate. But that was OK; saying stupid things before a fight was cool. It confused and scared the other guy, Coach Johnson had said, only not exactly. He'd used a big word Dudley didn't bother to remember because he'd already gotten the gist of it.

"Maybe he didn't see us." Piers said with a shrug, and Tim's hopes of a clean getaway rose long enough to be crushed by the tall boy. "Can't see a thing, can he, glasses like his?" The others laughed. Tim shook, knowing what was coming. It had happened before in school, only those times it had been just Piers and Dudley. The others eagerly waited for Dudley to say the word. Waiting for him, like good and loyal mates. It was time for poor Timmy to...

"What have you got there, Diddykins?" A voice called out from behind, making Dudley and Piers yelp. No, she couldn't be here! Mummy never went out to search for him because he was such a good boy, she believed. And she had that roast to watch over so... oh!

"What do you want, Jas?" Dudley asked, annoyed and embarrassed that his sister had tricked him like that. Stupid arts class! Why did she have to learn to mimic voices? This was far from the first time she'd done it and it had become bloody annoying! Going to summer camp had been the best thing ever just because she could not go with him.

"I was bored, Dudley." She whined cutely, making the others cringe. Girls were odd... and icky. But Dudley was wise of her evil ways; he wouldn't let her affect him. "So I came over as soon as I saw you having fun. What are you playing?"

"Never you mind that." Piers said, almost as annoyed as Dudley himself. "It's a boys' game. Girls ain't invited."

"Really?" Jasmine pouted. "What do you think, Timmy?" she asked the tiny bespectacled boy. "Are girls invited?"

"I... g-guess s-so..." the boy said, grasping at anything that might help him escape.

"See Dud?" His sister patted Dudley in the back cheerfully while he gritted his teeth. "I'm invited to your game. So... what are you playing?"

"We're not playing, we're training." Dudley sneered at Jasmine. His sister wasn't a fool; she was just trying to mess with them. That was how she and her harpies had fun in class; they made fun of other kids, mostly Dudley and his friends. But Dudley knew exactly how to get rid of her. "Wrestling, boxing, running; boy stuff." No girl would be caught dead doing boy stuff.

"Really?!" She squealed and clapped her hands; everyone else winced. "I love exercise! I'll go first!"

"Yeah, go away and... wait, what?" Dudley stared at his sister really confused now. "What'd you mean you wanna go first?"

"You heard me, Diddykins." She said, crossing her arms and no longer pretending to be so... so... girly. "I feel like beating one of you up."

 **xxxx**

Stupid, stupid, stupid saving-people-thing!

Harry getting involved in this could backfire in so many ways it wasn't even funny. Petunia would have a whole litter of kneazles if she found out. Jasmine's accidental magic might trigger. Dudley and his gang might laugh her off and beat Tim anyway, a terrible blow to Jasmine's standing among the kids in the neighbourhood. The mysterious wizard that arranged for Jasmine's accommodations could notice and start wondering why Jasmine wasn't a proper and normal girl any more. But he couldn't stand back and see Timmy get beaten.

Harry knew how bad bullying could get. If in his absence Dudley had chosen another favourite victim, he could remember intimately how ugly things would get for the victim in question. And letting it happen when he had the power to stop it was not something he could do and remain Harry. Hell, from what memories of Jasmine's earlier years he had from before his arrival, it was not something Jasmine would do and remain Jasmine. She, too, would do the right thing... though not at all in the way Harry was about to.

"You can't do that Jas." Dudley said, scratching his head and managing to look like the overgrown baboon he was attempting to become. "You're a girl."

"Whatever you say, Dudders." Harry shot back, using Jasmine's poise and acting skills for all they were worth. "I'll bet you a month's allowance I can take on one of your goons and win." Now he was playing hardcore. Jasmine got just as much allowance as Dudley from anyone but Aunt Marge and a month's worth of it was a big deal. Dudley was a greedy pig; he couldn't resist that kind of easy money... but better to make certain. "Unless you're a chicken?"

"I'm not a chicken!" He roared and Jasmine silently agreed with him. No, he was definitely a baby troll; in addition to his physical dimensions, baby trolls shared his looks and smell too. "Piers, get rid of my annoying sister."

The tall boy tried to shove Jasmine off even as Dudley's other minions provided some moral support... or so they thought. At least their antics were entertaining. Harry easily dodged Polkiss' half-hearted assault attempt and returned it with interest in the same way he'd seen Hermione deal with Malfoy long ago. Piers yelped and cradled his injured nose so Harry took up the opportunity to punch him in the general direction of his torso; Jasmine was not exactly a great brawler and Hermione had probably thrown more punches in their past life than Harry had. The hit didn't do much beyond knocking Piers Polkiss back a step, and then the fight was on.

It immediately became clear that Piers was more experienced in a brawl than either Harry or Jasmine had ever been. He was also a bit larger than Jasmine, though not by much, and he wasn't as slow as Dudley. After only a couple of swings, he managed to land a punch at Jasmine's stomach. It hurt... but not nearly as much as any of the wounds Harry had had to deal with during Quidditch, let alone those he got in the war or his end-of-year adventures. Clearly expecting the girl to give up, Piers let down his guard and got a punch straight in the face, followed by a kick in the shin.

The fight got uglier after that; Piers started using his speciality. Honed over many bullying sessions, the tall boy's skill at grabbing and holding opponents was evident. He wasn't that much stronger than Jasmine, but he did know a couple of good holds and was pulling Jasmine's hands behind her back. So Harry stomped on his large and awkward feet - several times. A few seconds later, Piers gave up despite the catcalls and Dudley's obvious anger and surprise.

 **Health:** 56/80 **Energy:** 1057/1184

Jasmine looked contemptuously at the limping, red from embarrassment Piers Polkiss then turned to her apparent brother and smirked in satisfaction. Beating up Piers was something Harry had fantasized about for years in his past life.

"Well, Dudley?" Jasmine demanded, arms crossed. "How about that allowance money?"

Naturally, Timmy had escaped during all the excitement exactly as Harry had intended.


	7. Down Time

**Finally recovering from a nasty case of Pneumonia that saw me hospitalized for a time; my mistake for thinking it was a common cold, I guess. Sorry for the three-week hiatus everyone, but I simply did not have the energy to write at all. I am better now, and I have a few more ideas I want to try in Harry/Jasmine's pre-Hogwarts years; this chapter reflects some of them.**

 **You're right; Hermione would have had a higher strength than Harry before he started extensive Quidditch training, possibly even unto third year. She was lugging two dozen huge books without Featherweight Charms after all; if those tomes were about 4 pounds each, that would be at least 10 strength. Do note that there are RL thirteen-year-old girls with a strength of 15+, the record being 240 lbs or so. And now that Harry is learning the system and has found the first 'exploit'...**

 **Disclaimer: was Dumbledore able to put a spy in Harry's neighborhood without the rest of the Wizarding World realizing despite Harry being an important national icon and hero? If yes, I do not own Harry Potter; he belongs to JK Rowling and this story is free and for fun.**

 **xxxx**

Somehow, Jasmine managed to avoid the worst consequences of having fun at Piers Polkiss' expense. Neither Petunia nor Vernon would ever acknowledge Dudley's slow decline into barbarism and thus any misdeeds associated with it were safe from their scrutiny. Dudley was silently sulking of course, and refused to share any details as to why. His 'sister' might not have beaten him but she had beat his primary minion and admitting to being curbstomped by a girl was against the boy code, as Harry knew well enough. He and Ron had spent endless hours being embarrassed by Hermione's capability after all, even though they'd done little to attempt to match it in anything except Defense against the Dark Arts. Harry didn't know if it was the advantage of hindsight or being reborn as a girl, but that struck him as a rather stupid attitude now and seeing it in Dudley of all people didn't exactly make him feel good about his choices in that previous life.

The awkwardness of everyday life in Number 4 Privet Drive was soon overtaken by Dudley and Jasmine's return to school. Dudley entered his own little world of young boys slowly growing into professional troublemakers and bullies, and Harry in Jasmine's body had to deal with being a popular girl with several female friends. Things were not nearly as bad as what Harry knew of similar situations in Hogwarts, or what he'd heard of or imagined about girl cliques based on various rumours and second-hand information. That was probably due to Jasmine and her friends being eight-year-olds, but the problem remained that Harry didn't know anything about acting as either popular or female. So he cheated, and used Jasmine's acting skills for all they were worth to emulate what he remembered of Ginny and Lavender, with the occasional sprinkling of Pansy Parkinson as the situation demanded. It went without saying that his primary source of information on how girls acted was totally inappropriate for the task; Hermione might have been brilliant but she'd never been particularly girly from what he remembered. It couldn't have been solely his and Ron's fault that they had not really noticed she'd been a girl for three and a half years. Before the first few weeks were out he'd gotten several more ranks in his Deception skill, two ranks in Impersonation, and one in Ad-Libbing.

Speaking of skills, he soon realized that most mundane skills worked in a similar manner. They usually gave him a chance to perform a given action outright, a passive percentage bonus to an associated ability score in all tasks having to do with that action, and a trick or technique every five ranks or so. Deception for example which he had recently improved read:

 _Deception Rank 25_

 _You know how to successfully mislead others and conceal information and actions during social interaction. Chance of being believed outright in normal circumstances 25% (1/rank, opposed by Empathy). Bonus to Charisma rolls for any kind of deception of 25% (1/rank). Tricks of avoiding suspicion mastered; 5 (looking innocent, friendly approach, playing the victim, exploit preconception, exploit social standing)_

He wondered who codified something as complex as social interaction down to a few lines of words and numbers, and why. This "Game of Life" thing was very real to him now, but he wasn't entirely sure the world could be measured so simply. Did this game enforce its statistics and numbers into everything, or were the numbers an approximation of what happened in the world in general, and Harry's weird situation in particular? With magic everything was possible he supposed, but he wanted, needed to know how this second chance worked so he made the best choices available. He did not want to die again, but far more than that he did not want to see others dying when Voldemort made his bid for power once again.

School was fairly easy. Harry had gone through it before and while his years in the magical world had focused on magic more than muggle knowledge, his basic skills in English, memorizing textbooks, cross-referencing information, and writing long assignments had survived the transformation into a young girl at least in part. Coupled with a few memories of going through all the lessons before, and Dudley and his gang no longer actively trying to make his/her life hell, and Harry could have easily coasted his way through school. For that exact reason he decided he should do the opposite. Wasting time was a bad idea with war coming to Britain in less than a decade. Muggle primary education might not be able to help Harry, or rather Jasmine, when the time came to enter the magical world, but Harry had seen how helpful Hermione's academic skills had been and according to his "character sheet", Jasmine's speed-reading, information search, and memorization skills weren't so hot.

He was going to see if six hours a day, five days a week, of trying to study as hard and fast as possible would result in some useful improvement.

 **xxxx**

 _ **Accidental Magic List:**_

 _Alter Shape, Animal Shape, Bounce, Blast, Command, Compel, Colour, Dark, Double, Erase, Featherweight, Freeze, Grow, Gust, Hide, Ignite, Jolt, Know, Light, Mend, Move, Negate, Open, Protect, Quiet, Repel, Reduce, Sound, Sunder, Travel, Thrust, Unveil, Vanish, Weigh, Weird._

Seeing all underage magic could do arrayed in a list was weird, but also exciting. Harry was certain the list did not include every variation of what accidental magic could do, but was limited to pretty standard effects overall when it came to what he could learn to do intentionally. So far, Harry had only intentionally managed a single effect - "Move" - and that with great difficulty. He remembered he'd managed at least a half a dozen of the effects on the list by accident in his past life and had heard of most of the others so he knew learning them was possible. He also remembered how Tom Riddle could use several of them intentionally before ever going to Hogwarts and with far less difficulty than he had, which would simply not do.

Now that Jasmine's "Accidental Magic" skill had just hit rank 15, he needed to pick one more effect from the list. At least that's what the game's messages told him. Adding the two effects he had not picked before, he had three choices in total. Too bad he wanted to pick everything... Given the laws about wands, the Statute of Secrecy, and his own need to remain hidden, buying a wand early was a bad idea even if Jasmine could easily find the money for one. And with the usual Potter luck _already messing things up, being able to use magic could be a life-saver. Tentatively, he examined the most likely choices._

 _ **Blast:** Direct magical attack at range using the highest of Agility or Intellect to hit, and Conviction for power. At 15% Conviction (1/rank of Accidental Magic)_

 _ **Hide:** deflect attention at full Conviction vs Intellect. Double effect vs Muggles. Duration in seconds based off Conviction. At 15% Conviction (1/rank of Accidental Magic)_

 _ **Protect:** temporary barrier around target. Power based off Conviction. Duration in seconds based off Conviction. At 15% Conviction (1/rank of Accidental Magic)_

 _ **Travel:** Short-range Apparition between targets. Range in yards based off Conviction. At 15% Conviction (1/rank of Accidental Magic)_

Controlled underage magic might be much weaker than spells with a wand but it was still very useful. Blasting a threat with a bolt of magic was something Harry had done for most of his life, and as a way of solving problems it was both refreshingly direct and strangely comforting. Besides, if he had the Game's system correctly, 15% of Jasmine's Conviction was still almost twice her physical strength, meaning a blow four times as powerful and at range. Similarly, the other effects were pretty good too. Hiding from observers for a dozen seconds or taking a blow or two on a rudimentary Shield Charm might mean the difference between life and death for the rather squishy eight-year-old Jasmine still was. And Apparition was awesome, even if was limited at a distance of a dozen meters or so for now.

Unfortunately, Harry had not suddenly found the solution to all his troubles in the form of Underage Magic. There was a reason wizards and witches kept at least four eyes on their children given the insane dangers inherent in the magical world. For one thing, using underage magic intentionally was nowhere near as easy as it was with a wand. Even after Harry putting his current body through weeks of effort and practice, Jasmine could successfully use it after six or seven seconds of intense concentration - an impractical eternity in any sort of fight. For another, magic was several times more tiring than it used to be even when casting feeble effects. He'd hoped that with enough practice Jasmine could pull it off reliably enough to not have to rely on fisticuffs, but things were not going well.

It had taken nearly two months to get to the current level of proficiency, what with all the hours Jasmine had to spend on school and other activities. According to the game's messages, taking it to a point where Jasmine needed only three seconds and a bit of effort to pull off a spell would need months, perhaps years of attempts still because the skill became harder and harder to increase the higher its rank was. Rank 10 had taken her only about a thousand attempts spread over a couple of days. Rank 15 had taken three and a half thousand. Rank thirty, the point where Jasmine's magic would be useful in a fight, would take twenty-seven thousand... and failed attempts did not count.

Remembering an incident from Harry's past life involving a teacher, a wig, and the colour blue, Jasmine made a snap decision and chose "Colour" instead of "Hide" or "Travel" as her third underage magical effect learned. Reading books would help her future academic career but it was mighty boring. Changing Dudley's homework into blank white paper would alleviate said boredom and allow her to work magic in class without being obvious about it.

Efficient learning was the best kind.

 **xxxx**

Another month, another point put into Endurance. Magic, dancing, skipping rope and playing dodgeball during breaks and PE to up her abysmal Dodging skill, even reading books for hours was tiring and the more energy Jasmine had available per day, the more she could do, the further she could push herself. In all those days of calm contemplation and the suspicious lack of magical monster attacks, Harry was beginning to understand how this Game of Life worked and had already found ways to use the rules to his... Jasmine's advantage.

There was no way to cheat that he was aware of, unless this second chance itself and his foreknowledge counted as cheating to begin with. But realizing how focusing on some specific attributes that fit the way he acted could maximize results? That was both an epiphany and an annoyance. If Harry had known what to expect when he first made Jasmine's sheet, he'd put a boatload of points into Endurance instead of his initial ten, and he'd have been leagues ahead of where he was now. But no use crying over spilt potion when there were many things still to be done.

With Accidental Magic now at Rank 20, Jasmine could reliably pull off the basic "Hiding" effect Harry had just picked every five seconds of effort. With her Conviction of seventy-five though, the magical concealment lasted for fifteen seconds, allowing her to keep it up as long as her Energy lasted - some twenty minutes. That was finally long enough to sneak out of Number 4 Privet Drive undetected and see for herself exactly what the deal was with the seemingly abandoned house at Number 2 Wisteria Walk. According to Harry's old memories, that should have been the residence of one Mrs Arabella Figg, an unmarried Squib, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and Dumbledore's spy.

Approaching the house took no time and effort beyond keeping the basic stealth charm on. Jasmine was not quite invisible but most people would just ignore her, especially if they were Muggles, and for as long as she didn't do something loud, obvious, or explosive as had been Harry's _modus operandi_ in his previous life. That the streets were dark - not quite Dementor dark, thankfully - and mostly empty helped too. Unfortunately, while her arrival was unimpeded, entering the house would not be so easy. The entrance and windows were all solidly boarded and nailed shut to boot, something that would hardly hinder anyone with a wand or even a Squib with the right enchanted item but might be an almost insurmountable obstacle for an eight-year-old girl. On the other hand, this specific eight-year-old girl now had some crude but usable magic.

Making sure nobody was watching, Jasmine stalked to the small house's back yard and the door she remembered from Harry's previous life. It was exactly where it was supposed to be and boarded up too, but that would soon stop being a problem. Since the low, dilapidated fence and a decent amount of wild growth concealed her from passers-by, she dropped the concealment and reached for her ability to move objects. According to the game rules, she should be able to exert force as if she applied a Rank 15 strength, being able to lift over two hundred pounds. Practical testing had confirmed this and as she focused her efforts in one end of a thick wooden plank and pulled, she was rewarded with the groaning protests of wood and the cracks of rusty old nails snapping one by one. Satisfied, she focused on the next plank and the next until the entire back door was open some three minutes later.

The gaping black opening over which the planks had been nailed beckoned. With both excitement and trepidation, Harry/Jasmine ventured forth.


	8. Dungeons

**Jasmine started school at age four. She had her birthday a month before the start of the school year so she was among the youngest children in her class. A few more questions answered in the chapter, Harry/Jasmine learns more about the game system. A few clues as to how Harry is affected by his/her rebirth and current situation; given his past and present, his having no personal issues is unrealistic.**

 **Disclaimer: Did Mrs Figg breed kneazles, which are magical creatures, in a muggle neighborhood while having no magical ability to conceal them with illusions or cast magic-repelling charms to avoid muggle notice, or with a way to send quick magical messages to the Obliviators in case an accident happened?**

 **xxxx**

Harry had half-forgotten just how large Mrs Figg's house had been. Raising Kneazles took up at least as much space as raising dogs did if you wanted to avoid suspicion, and the batty old squib had raised a lot of them. Harry had only been allowed in the house's living space, not the upper floor, the attic, or the garage, and had not realized that the old, smelly building was at least as large as the Dursleys' house. Entering the now dark interior through the back door suddenly felt as if Jasmine had just ventured into an ancient, cavernous space, full of secrets and dangers.

Jasmine snorted, and picked up one of the wooden planks that had once been barring the back door. This was just her imagination running rampant, nothing more. Tying the strip of cloth she'd appropriated from Dudley's cast-offs around one end, she drenched it liberally in oil from a bottle she'd liberated from the Dursleys' kitchen. A sudden pang of remorse went through her heart; Petunia and even Vernon had been nothing but loving towards their apparent daughter for several years now, and Jasmine was repaying their love and kindness with theft and various other illegal acts. Harry, however, had no qualms about performing minor acts of rebellion against his old tormentors. He ruthlessly quashed any second thoughts his physical half might have with a reminder of the truth; Jasmine simply couldn't be the Dursleys' daughter. It was physically impossible to have a second child only a few months after your first - not without some major magic. The Dursleys' and everyone else's beliefs about her parentage were obviously false, as they'd realized only weeks before. The sooner they accepted that, the sooner they could do something about it.

 _Through decisive resolution of personal conflict, your Conviction has increased by 1._

 _Through repeated use of logic in major decisions, your Intellect has increased by 1._

 _Due to self-doubt and the beginnings of split personality, your Presence has decreased by 1._

Wait, what? Harry double-checked the mental messages to be certain he'd read them correctly. That he could read them in the near-total darkness of the abandoned house didn't come as a surprise; after all he could read them while dead, when he did not have a body at all. No, it was their content that was surprising, even alarming. Self-doubt? Split personality?! He and Jasmine were two different people, the soul of a dead future Boy-Who-Lived taking up space in a young girl's head! But... come to think of it... Jasmine didn't have a second face at the back of her head, did she? In fact... Harry and Jasmine's personalities... they weren't that different or independent. Was it possible that... GAAH! Jasmine gripped her head tightly, trying to shake off the sudden headache and confusion that particular line of thought had given her. The dead of night was not a good time for such introspection, especially when one was exploring an abandoned, probably magical house instead of resting in one's bed. And it was a serious matter better left for when she had more time in a safe location. Better to just focus on the immediate changes rather than their cause. Thoughts still reeling from the recent curveball this "Game of Life" had thrown him, Harry concentrated to bring up Jasmine's character sheet. Unsurprisingly, it took him quite a bit longer than it usually did.

 _ **JASMINE DURSLEY ?  
**_

 _ **Age:**_ _7_ _ **Gender:**_ _female ?_ _ **Hair:**_ _Red ?_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Hazel ?_

 _ **Concept: **__Half-Blood Witch ?  
_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Accidental Magic, Inheritance, Quick Recovery, Happy Family, Uncanny Awareness, Harmless and Cute, A Thousand Faces  
_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Doing the Right Thing, I Need to Know, Trouble Magnet, Loyal Friend, Cautious  
_

 _ **Strength:**_ _7_ _ **Agility:**_ _50_ _ **Endurance:**_ _17_ _ **Intellect:**_ _51_ _ **Conviction:**_ _76_ _ **Presence:**_ _49_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _85/85_ _ **Energy:**_ _497/1292_

So, the messages had not been some sort of joke as Harry had half-hoped. In addition to the entire personality mess they implied, they'd also revealed one very important fact about the game system; various actions could not only increase Jasmine's attributes but also decrease them. Since those little numbers represented Jasmine's life, and a single attribute point represented a whole month of normal development, they needed to be treated far more seriously than they'd been so far. If this was Harry's one and only second chance, with all its weirdness and game-like characteristics, they could not afford to waste even the smallest advantage they could get.

With renewed determination, Jasmine lit her makeshift torch and ventured into the dark house.

 **xxxx**

Cobwebs gleamed in every corner under the torchlight, and a thick layer of dust covered everything. Wooden furniture slowly rotted in an atmosphere more humid than in most houses, and a few fat, overgrown Flobberworms chewed on the musty old carpets. The house smelled nothing like when Mrs Figg had lived there; the stench of rot, old magic, and abandonment was far fouler than a cat's, or even an entire army of kneazles. Jasmine searched through Harry's memories for confirmation of her suspicions; she was quite certain Mrs Figg had never lived in this place. After a few minutes of recalling events that happened at roughly the same period of time but in a previous timeline, Jasmine was sure Mrs Figg had never owned such large, elaborate furniture, or had the kind of thick carpets that covered the floor. The furniture would be too large for her, the carpets too hard to keep clean with the number of cats she'd had.

Perhaps Mrs Figg had never lived in this area without one Harry Potter to watch over. Maybe she'd never been involved in Jasmine being placed with the Dursleys, or the magical cover-up of her identity and past. But if so, who had lived in this house before it was abandoned? They must have been magical, as the existence of Flobberworms indicated. Magical creatures were attracted to areas that had seen use of magic, as Jasmine was finding out through her various encounters with annoying magical parasites over the past months.

Carefully, she approached the ancient-looking bookcase with the sagging, mostly empty shelves, the few broken vases, and the couple dozen ruined old books. Most of them had rotted beyond recognition, their bindings torn, their pages devoured by the creeping green decay of mould. Others looked shredded and gnawed upon, and Jasmine wondered if the house had a rat infestation. But one or two appeared to be in fairly good condition, somehow preserved despite years spent in a corrosive environment. Magic, of course; if Hogwarts' library contained tomes still usable after a thousand years and Tom Riddle could render a common diary nigh indestructible, a few books charmed against normal wear and tear was hardly an issue. Using the unlit end of her plank, Jasmine scraped the layer of dust off their spines and read the titles. _Practical Household Magic by Zamira Gulch, Ingredient Encyclopedia by Warthog Gripton Argonaut._ As she carefully removed the books from the rotting bookcase with the unlit end of her plank, she tried to see if there was any sort of magical trap on them. An eleven-year-old Harry had jumped head-first into the Hogwarts Library's restricted section, but the reborn Jasmine had more sense. Having her eyes burned out or being forced to speak in rhymes for the rest of her life was not something she wanted to experience.

 _Through repeated application of a character aspect, you've learned more about yourself. Your Presence has increased by 1._

 _Through repeated attempts to sense magic, the Sense Magic skill has been unlocked at Rank 1._

The game was probably referring to the "Cautious" drawback in Jasmine's character sheet. Who knew that introspection and character development could result in actual improvement of one's abilities. Interesting as that was though, the new Sense Magic skill probably was far more important, especially since Jasmine didn't have a wand to cast detection spells with, and wouldn't for years to come. With a bit of mental effort, she brought up the mental explanation for it.

 _ **Sense Magic** , Rank 1_

 _You can sense the presence of magic, either by chance or concerted effort. 1% chance to sense magic per attempt per Rank, times effect strength divided by your Conviction. I.e. an effect twice as strong as your Conviction is twice as easy to sense, whereas one a quarter as strong as what you can manage is four times harder instead. While higher Conviction makes you easier to detect by others and less likely to sense them in turn, accomplished witches and wizards can have very high Sense Magic skill, as well as ranks in the opposing skill Conceal Magic. Multiple similar magical auras tend to blur together and register as one bigger aura. Weaker auras might be covered by stronger auras. Higher ranks in this skill can reveal more information than the presence or absence of magic._

So the stronger she became the harder it would be to sense magic, especially that weaker than hers? That was a bit counter-intuitive to Jasmine, but Harry's memories seemed to support it. Dumbledore's and Voldemort's sheer presence was impossible to miss unless they were concealing it, and Voldemort's defenses in the underground lake had registered Dumbledore but ignored the far younger and magically less developed Harry. Dumbledore himself had mentioned it, shortly after displaying the ability to analyse Voldemort's defensive spells without casting a spell of his own. Oh well. Magic worked in mysterious ways. Examining the books carefully until she was as certain as she could be they contained no magical traps, she picked them up and put them in her bag. From the titles alone they seemed to be relevant to Jasmine's current situation, or at least useful. Highly convenient, that.

 _You have picked up your first treasure. During your adventures you'll have the opportunity to gather lots of interesting and valuable things that can make your life easier, from magical ingredients and artifacts to mundane treasure. Getting treasure in unclaimed areas is called "gathering". Getting treasure from dangerous, old, or abandoned areas is called "salvaging". Getting treasure from most civilized, developed areas is called "making a profit" also known as "stealing". Getting treasure after applications of violence, such as battles, is called "pillaging" or "looting". Not all methods of getting treasure are equally acceptable socially, and treasure tends to draw attention from third parties._

Again with the weirdly humorous description. Who was writing these things!? Perhaps if-...

Jasmine didn't get an opportunity to philosophize about the Game of Life; the almost inaudible droning she'd missed in her examination of the derelict house suddenly spiked, and a moth-eaten curtain shifted and flapped against a boarded-up window. From within its folds flew out a four-armed, winged humanoid with serrated teeth, an attitude problem disproportionate to its six-inch frame, and an aura of mild dark magic.

A Doxy.

 **xxxx**

The biting fairy, as Doxies were commonly called, made a rapid attack run straight at Jasmine's face. With quick reflexes for a child of her size and age, Jasmine rolled aside at the last moment and tried to hit the magical pest with her improvised torch. She missed, and the Doxy performed another aerial assault. It found its mark, teeth scraping against Jasmine's right forearm but failing to penetrate before the disgusted girl let go a loud yelp and swung the torch at it again. Jasmine had miscalculated however. The Doxy deftly flew off before the blow landed and the burning edge of the old plank slammed painfully against Jasmine's own forearm. She hissed at the sharp pain even as the Doxy gave off a high-pitched cackle at its bumbling opponent hitting herself with what amounted to a flaming club.

 _ **Health:**_ _78/85_ _ **Energy:**_ _532/1292_

Yes, yes, she'd just hit herself. No reason for the game system to remind her by showing her reduced health total. At least there was no random inane commentary. Furious at the course of events, she swung the improvised torch at the Doxie several dozen times, a relentless assault the magical pest avoided through the simple expedient of flying just a bit too high for the girl to reach.

 _ **Energy:**_ _501/1292_

Merlin, that was annoying! Stopping the useless attacks, Jasmine waited for the evil faerie to come within range which, of course, it did. The nasty critters were as easily bored as they were aggressive and this one was no different. Unfortunately for it, it found Jasmine's improvised weapon swung in its path even as it attacked. Unfortunately for Jasmine, it proved equal to the task of dodging at the last moment, though that forced it to end its attack at Jasmine's hip rather than her face. Undeterred, the dangerous little pest bit through Jasmine's dress with all its might.

 _ **Health:**_ _73/85_ _ **Energy:**_ _499/1292_

"OW! That freaking hurt, you bloody little bugger! You're so dead when I get my hands on you!" Jasmine cursed as it flew out of range again, denying her the opportunity to counterattack. It didn't stay there long. Soon, it was dive-bombing the young witch once more. Furious exchanges of rapid attacks, frantic last-second dodging, and lots of cursing from both sides followed. Several minutes and a dozen bombing runs later, Jasmine had been bitten twice more. Doxies were very agile little buggers and, like all fairy-like magical creatures, abnormally strong for their size. Not as strong as the Cornish pixies who'd bodily picked poor Neville up by his ears during Lockhart's most memorable lesson, but strong enough for their teeth to draw blood almost as often as not.

 _ **Health:**_ _63/85_ _ **Energy:**_ _297/1292_

Jasmine had had her revenge, though. She'd managed to solidly connect once with her improvised weapon, whacking the winged menace all the way to the other side of the cluttered old living room. The Doxy had only narrowly managed to regain its senses quickly enough and scramble away before Jasmine walked up to it and smacked it into a bloody smear on the floor. Even that single blow had been enough to almost cripple one of its wings though, and now all it could do was sit on its precarious perch atop the rotting bookcase and glare impotently at Jasmine.

Unfortunately for it, the young witch was not done. Now that there was a lull in the fight and she wasn't frantically dodging attacks, she could focus. Concentrate for the five seconds it took to put her still rudimentary control of her underage magic to good use. Returning the Doxy's nasty glare with an even nastier smirk, she sent a barely controlled blast of raw magic at it... a blast that hit four times as hard as she could using her physical strength. The Doxy was slammed against the wall behind it hard enough to invoke a bug vs wind shield scenario; its tiny body was literally crushed, spewing black ichor everywhere.

"Take that you foul-smelling, child-biting, bloody ugly pain in the arse!" Jasmine shouted and jumped in triumph. Her victorious exclamation did not go unheeded. The droning in the abandoned house rose in volume until it was an angry buzz like one would get from a beehive. Three more Doxies flew out from the curtains.

Jasmine's eyes bulged in shock. The young witch was very lucky nobody was around to take a picture, or she would forever have to suffer comparisons to Luna Lovegood... or Umbridge. Luckily for her continued survival, her rational mind reasserted itself quickly enough to decide on the better part of valour; she made for the back door at a dead run, three angry Doxies tailing her. At the very last moment, she managed to slam the door in their ugly little faces, resulting into three loud THUCK!s as they flew into it. Huffing and puffing after the scare she'd had, Jasmine shoved a couple of the discarded planks into place pushing them in with magic until the door was nailed shut once more.

 _ **Health:**_ _63/85_ _ **Energy:**_ _267/1292_

 _You have won your first-ever monster fight. Your Agility has increased by 2._

 _You escaped Doxy retaliation in time. Your Agility has increased by 2 and you're still alive._

If she ever got her hands on whoever sent her these mental messages... At least it was all over and she was safe. Exploring this horrible dungeon of a house had been a bust but the benefits had been worth it - especially the attribute increases. Now, to catch her breath before returning to Number 4 Privet Drive under a concealment charm.

 _ **Energy:**_ _264/1292_

Huh? Why the lowered energy? She was resting now, not fighting, using magic, or running around. Frowning, Jasmine tried to find what was going on, but came up with nothing. Losing energy just like that went against her months-long experience with this game her life had become.

 _ **Energy:**_ _261/1292_

More energy loss? This didn't make sense! Yes, she was nearly exhausted after the amount of magic, fighting, and exercise she'd done over the last couple of hours, and a bit wounded and in pain from that stupid flaming club and the bloody evil fairies with the bloody serrated teeth but...

 _ **Energy:**_ _258/1292_

Wait, the Doxy bites. Their wounds were tiny, if rather deep, and they throbbed way more nastily than bee stings and... something about them in Harry's memories... something involving Fred and George... what was it...

 _ **Energy:**_ _255/1292_

 _Your have remembered several facts about common house pests, including that Doxy bites are poisonous. Your Magizoology rank has increased by 1._

Paling considerably, Jasmine forgot all about stealth and concealment charms and ran back to Number 4 Privet Drive to clean and dress her wounds as well as she was able without access to healing potions or magic. A bit over an hour later she'd done as much as she could. Shaking and feverish, she collapsed on her bed, her last thought being that at least the Dursleys were still in the dark about her activities.


	9. Party Time!

**And now our strong female protagonist is introduced to yet another wondrous cliche of modern games as it is horribly applied in real life. Enjoy! In answer to FreidenShmi, Jasmine/Harry did not choose the "magical core" trait so their magic is based off Endurance and Conviction as with all their other actions, and not off Conviction and Fate. Smaller pool, but with fewer key abilities and without the fanon cliches of 'boosting magic', 'binding magic', or 'stealing magic'.**

 **Disclaimer: Did any muggle character play any neutral or positive role in the series willingly? If not, I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling and this story is free and for fun.**

 **xxxx**

The muggle doctor a frantic Petunia Dursley called in the next day had no idea what had caused the extremely painful Doxy bites. Luckily, muggle medicine still worked to counter the low-end magical poison in them and Jasmine didn't have to stay in bed more than a day. The worst of it was the constant feeling of exhaustion that accompanied the pain, which was powerful enough to leave Jasmine mostly paralysed. An entire day of music and dancing practice, schoolwork, and refining her magic lost thanks to a single silly household pest! On the other hand, she knew just how lucky she'd been to escape before the other Doxies could attack. It had occurred to her that losing about a third of her "health" and all of her "energy" in that fight had been worse than most of the crazy encounters she'd had in the previous life as Harry. She was eight years old, with no weapons, and hardly any magic; a Doxy was to her as much a danger as a fully-grown Acromantula would have been to her previous incarnation. She really had to be more careful.

Speaking of previous incarnations, an entire day of being out of action had given her time for some much needed thinking. He might have been Harry once, but she was Jasmine now; she was reminded of that every time she went to the bathroom. Thinking as two people or even acting like it was a good first step down the road to craziness, as the Game had reminded her. Harry might be terribly uncomfortable in this new body, he might have far longer, far more numerous experiences as a boy, but none of that made this reincarnation as Jasmine any less true. So unless they wanted to grow up with a serious personality disorder a decision had to be made... Harry or Jasmine? The name didn't matter that much; accepting the new body as their own did.

The last living Potter stayed awake late that night, taking on a problem worse than many a dark lord or monster; the issue of identity. In the end, she could come to no real decision. Harry had never been good in thinking things through and Jasmine was an eight year old, for Merlin's sake! They'd at least make an effort to accept the new situation and see where that got them. With that thought, the last Potter finally slept.

 **xxxx**

The fallout from Jasmine's misadventure with the Doxies was both more and less than she'd expected. There was no obvious parental disciplinary action, no shouts or arguments, no being locked into her room without food as Harry had half-expected even after years of living in a much more tolerant Dursley household. On the other hand, Jasmine had now gained an unwanted escort; Dudley followed her pretty much everywhere, keeping an eye on her on Petunia's orders. It wasn't very obvious in school where her 'brother's' budding gang simply played near enough Jasmine's group that Dudley could keep her in his sight, or in all the classes they shared. But being always escorted by an enormous, overweight, land-bound cetacean to and from school, her dance lessons, or any time she went shopping was quite embarassing. Especially when the role of chaperone was taken up by Vernon rather than Dudley. Jasmine had her revenge though; she went shopping twice as often after the incident, and she was twice as indecisive. She even got a point of Presence out of it for acting in-character as well as social skill increases, proving the perversity of the Game and the universe in general.

Several times, Jasmine contemplated the pros and cons of using magic to give Dudley the slip. Unfortunately, whatever control she had of her magical abilities did not allow her to erase memories and vanishing into thin air wasn't something her cousin was likely to forget. Sooner or later though, the somewhat alarmed Dursleys would return to their loving but inadvertently neglectful selves and then she'd be free to act. Until that happier time however, she had a lot of work to do. Just because events conspired to give her ample of supervised downtime did not mean she could slack off. That had been Harry's mistake in the past timeline. With the exception of his first year and the hunt for the Philosopher's Stone and his fifth year with Dumbledore's Army, he'd given the looming shadow of Voldemort so little attention it was criminal. Now that she had a visual representation of her abilities and skills, Jasmine could appreciate how much effort was needed to become truly good at something. If the Game's numbers were to be trusted, one needed to perform an action as many as a million times to truly perfect it, or work on improving a broader, more complex skill for as long as ten thousand hours. And that was actual work, not just coasting on what you'd already learned. About a thousand hours of hard work under Oliver Wood coupled with talent had made Harry a good Quidditch player, though not on the level of high-end professional players. How could less than sixty hours in the DA ever prepare people for a war?

This time things would be different, Jasmine vowed. That personal resolution had not been decided upon on any specific time; it just was. Whatever bizarre changes this second chance had brought, she was sure Voldemort just vanishing would not be among them. In Hagrid's unforgettable words, he was not nearly human enough to die... and everybody else was far too frightened of him to do anything about it. But such concerns, although inescapable, they were still years in the future. For the moment, Jasmine could barely survive an encounter with a Doxie and that wasn't a state of affairs that could be allowed to persist.

First order of business; running. Nobody stood still or took leisury strolls in combat unless their name was Dumbledore. Thus Jasmine started running to and from school every day, and in all other activities and situations she could get away with it. Then came a very useful discovery; Rope Skipping, a game rather popular among the girls at school, increased her Dodging skill with practice, not just her Children Games one, especially if the session was both high speed and the girls swinging the rope intentionally tried to trip her up. Dodgeball improved Dodging faster but a girl skipping rope for hours drew less attention than one trying to become the school's dodgeball champion. Climbing, something Harry had been very good in once, was the first major hurdle in her new training schedule. Jasmine wasn't any weaker than Harry had been at her age, but she was much healthier... and thus heavier. She simply couldn't lift her own weight, not at first. She had to cheat with a bit of levitation magic until finally, after over a month of effort, her physical strength had increased by a point and made climbing viable once more.

Training her magic without anyone noticing finally became a possibility when she picked up the trick of changing the colour of objects. Shifting the tiny eraser at the rear of an old pencil through various colours went unnoticeable even during class; Dudley and Piers played Hangman in class all the time and the teachers didn't mind anyway - not even when Dudley got angry if he lost. If Jasmine didn't mind getting exhausted, she could usually perform the change a couple hundred times in the first fifteen minutes of classes, then recover her energy over the day and repeat the attempt before the final bell rang. Forcing herself to read and do schoolwork when exhausted might not provide the better results, but her skill in reading, memorization, and various academic subjects actually improved faster in that way, possibly because she was pushing herself more. Music practice and dancing were far more demanding than her academic workload, and both things that couldn't be done while exhausted. Far from seeing such hours as lost though, Jasmine loved learning to move in new and fascinating ways or flick her fingers over the piano at great speeds. Besides, improving her Agility was something that helped with just about every part of her life, not just art.

A month passed, then another and another. As the school year came to a close and the pitifully easy end-of-term tests scared the slackers (except for Dudley) into finally doing that long-delayed revision, Jasmine found out she was rather satisfied with the results of all that effort she'd put to all her activities, and the Game itself confirmed it. No longer needing to expend effort on it at all, she brought up her mental character sheet.

 _ **JASMINE DURSLEY ?  
**_

 _ **Age:**_ _7_ _ **Gender:**_ _female ?_ _ **Hair:**_ _Red ?_ _ **Eyes:**_ _Hazel ?_

 _ **Concept: **__Half-Blood Witch ?  
_

 _ **Trouble:**_ _War Orphan_

 _ **Benefits:**_ _Accidental Magic, Inheritance, Quick Recovery, Happy Family, Uncanny Awareness, Harmless and Cute, A Thousand Faces  
_

 _ **Drawbacks:**_ _Enemy of the Dark, Unsubtle and Quick to Anger, Doing the Right Thing, I Need to Know, Trouble Magnet, Loyal Friend, Cautious  
_

 _ **Strength:**_ _8_ _ **Agility:**_ _55_ _ **Endurance:**_ _20_ _ **Intellect:**_ _54_ _ **Conviction:**_ _77_ _ **Presence:**_ _51_ _ **Destiny:**_ _0_

 _ **Health:**_ _100/100_ _ **Energy:**_ _1463/1540_

 _PHYSICAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 2 Athletics: Running rank 30, Children's Games rank 49, Climbing rank 23, Dancing rank 35_

 _Tier 1 Combat: Brawling rank 7, Dodging rank 15, Ignore Pain rank 61, Ignore Physical Penalty rank 70  
_

 _Tier 1 Subterfuge: Stealth rank 7, Search rank 6_

 _Tier 2 Housework: Cooking rank 21, Gardening rank 32, Basic Repair rank 21 , Cleaning rank 31_

 _MENTAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 2 Academics: Speed Reading rank 17, Information Search rank 23, Memorization rank 35, Basic English 42  
_

 _Tier 3 History/Culture: Magical Britain rank 50, Muggle Britain rank 25, Magical World rank 10, Muggle World rank 10_

 _Tier 1 Science: Basic Math rank 32, Basic Physics rank 21, Basic Biology/Chemistry rank 21_

 _SOCIAL SKILLS_

 _Tier 3 Interaction: Rapport rank 32, Empathy rank 20, Persuasion rank 22, Inspiration rank 25_

 _Tier 3 Performance: Ad-Lib rank 51, Impersonation rank 47, Deception rank 23_

 _Tier 2 Art: Music rank 23, Dancing rank 21, Singing rank 10_

 _MAGICAL TALENTS_

 _Tier 1 Magic Lore: Accidental Magic rank 45, Sense Magic rank 15  
_

 _Tier 3 Dueling: Aiming rank 31, Ignore Magical Penalty 30, Ignore Mental Penalty 50_

 _Tier 3 Divination: Strange Senses rank Max (quest advantage)_

 _Tier 1 Inborn Ability: Shift Colour rank 0 (restricted), Alter Features rank 0 (restricted)_

Nearly a year of life with the Dursleys and steady, determined preparation for the future had brought about small but considerable changes. The greatest was, of course, Jasmine's controlled underage magic. While not holding a candle to what the average wizard could do with a wand, it was more than most wizards managed without, possibly due to how hard it was to improve it. Months of hard work had finally allowed her to do something useful with only a couple of seconds of effort, and even though she'd mastered fewer effects and less reliably than a first-year in Hogwarts, she was finally a witch in more than name. The other, perhaps just as important change, was Jasmine's increased stamina. Harry, after countless hours of chores and running away from Dudley and his gang had never had problems putting in effort in things that really mattered. Jasmine had never had such a hard life but with practice she'd managed to push her limit up to half an hour's worth of intense effort before she collapsed. Running nearly five miles straight was not quite a marathon... but it was four and a half miles more than most people her age or even many adult city-dwellers could do. Improvements in other areas were smaller, but in the end just as important.

For the first time after the Doxy fiasco, Jasmine felt a bit more confident about trying to explore the old house again.

 **xxxx**

Losing Dudley during an afternoon in the park was as easy as she'd expected. She'd have preferred to get out during the night, but even months after the incident Aunt Petunia carefully locked down the house after sunset, and checked that both she and her cousin were in their beds several times every night. However much of a problem that might be for her plans though, Jasmine couldn't blame her aunt; for the first time in either Harry's or Jasmine's stay in Number 4 Privet Drive, Petunia Dursley had nightmares of her precious children dying from some strange disease in their beds. Thus the late afternoon walk.

She'd enter the old house under cover of her basic concealment charm, and greet any Doxy showing its ugly insectoid-fairy mug with a magical blast to the face. Fair fights were for idiots and dead people, as Harry had learned to his loss. Unfortunately, as soon as she saw the hastily boarded up back door to Mrs Figg's old home, her legs refused to move any further. Intellectually, she knew that she was far more prepared for the potential dangers now than she'd been last time... but her body strongly believed otherwise. The familiar wave of dread Harry had felt every time he dwelled on his near-death experiences kept her rooted to the spot. It didn't matter that Harry had died twice and still gotten another chance. It didn't matter that she knew nothing bad would happen this time. Her body was convinced she was about to commit suicide by magical pest and was having none of it.

"Oi Dudders! Told ya your sis was up to no good!"

The sudden shout from behind her made Jasmine yelp and leap at least three feet, to the amused laughter of several boys. Feeling as if Aunt Petunia's extra-strong vacuum cleaner had just sucked up her guts, she turned around to see the budding gang approaching. Dennis, Malcolm, Piers and, of course, Dudley. Oh Merlin... Dudley had told his friends to keep an eye on her too? That wasn't creepy or anything...

"What are ya doing here, Jas?" her cousin asked angrily, his round face trying to simultaneously scowl, express surprise, and do a watermelon impersonation. "You were supposed to be in the park! Mum's gonna be furious!"

"What is to you, Dudley?" she barked back, using anger to play for time and cook up some good excuse that would not see her grounded for several more months. "I'm obviously OK, as you can see perfectly well. No need to run after me all the time."

"I'm your brother, ya bloody maniac!" Dudley could do exasperation exceedingly well. Who knew? Then again, all that acting practice with Aunt Marge to get the best possible presents had to be worth something. "And mum's afraid you'll fall sick again, or something. I can't let you go do crazy girl things!"

"Crazy girl things?" I asked, my tone becoming slow and dangerous as I worked around the meaning of that insult in my mind. "Tell me Dudders..." I took a threatening step closer "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"You sure she's your sis, Dud?" Dennis helpfully interjected. "You two are arguing like me ma and pa." Oh no, he didn't! Such words required instant retaliation, even if he was unknowingly half right. Jasmine stalked forth with every intent of putting her rank 7 Brawling to good use with some subtle assistance from her rank 45 accidental magic when another of the stupid boys interrupted yet again.

"Hey, look at that, fellas... is that crazy Mundungus' old place?" Piers asked, indicating the boarded up back door. "Cause if it is, I know what the half-pint was here for." Damn. Jasmine had forgotten how perceptive that annoying boy could be. He'd been the one to notice Harry's first use of Parseltongue in the old timeline too.

"It sure looks like it." Dudley said with a pensive frown, looking from the dilapidated building to his apparent sister and back. "Hey boys... what do you think about exploring?"

No, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn't possibly be suggesting...

"I'm in!"

"Sure!"

"Yeah, man."

"It'll be awesome!"

And just like that, the five-idiot band had crashed Jasmine's party uninvited... Merlin and Morgana, she hated her luck. As the excitement mounted, she scrambled for a way to avert disaster before it was too late. "Dudley, I don't think I want to go in that house."

"Nonsense. It'll be great fun." Her cousin stared at her suspiciously. "Didn't you want to go in there a few moments ago? You got something in there you don't want us to see?" Several somethings, all winged and poisonous. Not that Dudley would believe her if she told him, or be smart enough to care.

"Look, I want to go home now." She whined as only a young girl could. It was highly effective; more than one boy winced and started looking for an excuse to step back without looking like they were fleeing. "Mum wouldn't want us to be late." Unfortunately Dudley, big gang leader he, was made of sterner stuff... or had been frequently inoculated against sisterly complaints.

"There's six of us, Jas." He smirked. "And ol' man Mundungus was just a nutter. His house should have interesting stuff, but not dangerous." Not if that was the same Mundungus from Harry's previous life it wouldn't; the man had once stolen a Horcrux and sold it to the Ministry for Merlin's sake!

"Naah, I reckon she's chickening out." Piers said nastily, glowering at her as soon as Dudley's back was turned towards him. "Wanted to have some big adventure, 'cept she remembered she's a girl." Dennis and Malcolm laughed at that, and Dudley smiled but didn't quite join in. Piers laughed louder than anybody else; he was still holding a grudge from the time Jasmine had beaten him up, apparently.

"Don't worry, Jas." Dudley said firmly. "We'll have our adventure and be safe too. If you're scared, hide behind me." And with that, he pulled his apparent sister along by one arm, strong enough to manage it despite her protests as long as she didn't use magic... which she couldn't, in the presence of muggles. Accepting defeat she followed, until she was interrupted by one of the Game's messages;

 _You have joined the party "Dudley's Gang". Your handle is "Fateless Witch". Other members as follows;_

 _ **BIG D  
**_

 _ **Strength:** 11 **Agility:** 36 **Endurance:** 17 **Intellect:** 41 **Conviction:** 35 **Presence:** 52 **Destiny:** 50_

 _ **HP:** 85/85 **Energy:** 595/595_

 _ **Posh Boy  
**_

 _ **Strength:** 8 **Agility:** 58 **Endurance:** 11 **Intellect:** 60 **Conviction:** 50 **Presence:** 30 **Destiny:** 27_

 _ **HP:** 55/55 **Energy:** 550/550_

 _ **Tall M  
**_

 _ **Strength:** 10 **Agility:** 40 **Endurance:** 16 **Intellect:** 45 **Conviction:** 40 **Presence:** 30 **Destiny:** 21_

 _ **HP:** 80/80 **Energy:** 640/640_

 _ **Little D  
**_

 _ **Strength:** 9 **Agility:** 55 **Endurance:** 15 **Intellect:** 50 **Conviction:** 45 **Presence:** 34 **Destiny:** 23_

 _ **HP:** 75/75 **Energy:** 675/675_

 _ **G-Man  
**_

 _ **Strength:** 10 **Agility:** 41 **Endurance:** 16 **Intellect:** 46 **Conviction:** 40 **Presence:** 35 **Destiny:** 22_

 _ **HP:** 80/80 **Energy:** 640/640_

What the hell had just happened? Party? What party? Jasmine didn't see any cause for celebration, except for any potential magical predators that were about to have five hundred pounds of bacon delivered to their doorstep. She didn't have time to think things through however, because Malcolm and Gregor were already pulling off the inexpertly nailed wooden boards and opening the door.

It was days like this that made Jasmine hate her life.


End file.
